The Demon Within
by SquirlK
Summary: What if the Initiative experiments were very different from just implanting a chip? AU from season 4.
1. The Demon Within

The Demon Within

Disclaimer: I own a brand new 'Spike' coat but not much else.

Summary: What if the Initiative experiments were very different from just implanting a chip? AU from season 4.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Was minding my own business finishing up 'Silence Is Golden Unless' and working on 'Resurrected' when that damn plot bunny stomped on my head with this insane idea. Please read and let me know what you think.

Thanks to WayWard Childe for reading it and giving me your valuable opinion.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

The tests were done. All that was needed was for the Hostile to escape. Maggie Walsh was rather proud of herself. She'd wiped out all traces of humanity from the Hostile, converting it to pure demon form. Now the final step in her plan would take place, releasing the demon and watching how it acted with her little 'adjustment'. An evil smile played across her lips. This was gonna be fun.

In retrospect, it was almost too easy. If coherent thought had been possible the demon would have been suspicious. As it was, its only thoughts were about escape, food and killing. The escape part was accomplished easily, too easily but the demon did not see that. He now needed to feed. He was hungry, achingly so. He kept to the shadows unaware of the tracking device imbedded in his shoulder. It was not the only bit of scientific hardware in his body but he did not know that either. He lifted his head, scenting the air. Searching for someone to eat. He was so very hungry. There. Finally at the end of the alley. There was someone. Alone. Vulnerable. The demon silently moved in the shadows of the alley. The human paused as if hearing a noise or sensing a presence. The pause was all it took. The demon darted out almost too fast for the human eye to see, grabbed the hapless victim and pulled him into the darkness. There was no need to change visage. The demon was in control. The struggling human in the demon's arms didn't have time to scream. Except, he didn't die. He wasn't harmed at all. The second the demon placed his fangs on the skin of the human a searing pain shot through his head. Again, the demon tried to feed, tried to pierce the tender skin of the human in his arms but the pain returned, worse than before. Releasing his victim with a howl of agony, the demon ran. Preternatural speed kept the victim from seeing clearly who had held him so briefly. After a few minutes to recover, the human shakily and speedily ran home.

The demon continued to run. He couldn't understand what happened. He was still hungry but the pain in his head from trying to sate that hunger was tearing his skull apart. He took refuge in a crypt in the cemetery, huddled in a corner. The waves of pain had eased but his head still hurt. He couldn't understand. What was happening to him? His entire being pulsed with fury, pain and hunger. His instincts were all that was controlling him. Hunt. Feed. Kill. But he couldn't. Not without the pain. Confusion reigned in the feral golden eyes of the demon. Like the wild, wounded creature that he was, he crouched in the corner. Wary and afraid, he kept watch. He pulled his worn leather duster closer around his slender body and tipped his platinum head back to rest against the wall. Hunger ate at him and he growled in frustration.

Outside the crypt, the small group of soldiers who'd been assigned to follow this particular hostile gave each other small pats on the back. The equipment was working properly. The demon couldn't feed on living creatures without incurring a headache and the tracking device allowed them to follow without having to match the unnatural speed the demon had used. Riley Finn keyed his radio and reported in.

"Professor Walsh?" He said.

"Yes, Agent Finn." The scientist answered.

"The hostile has found refuge. If he follows normal patterns, he will establish his nesting place here. The equipment is working beautifully. He tried to feed but the chip nearly fried his brain. It was a lovely sight, I don't mind telling you. Tomorrow, while it's sleeping, we'll install cameras in its lair. We'll tranq it first to make sure but we should be able to get that part of the experiment done without problems." Riley reported.

"Excellent. That will be sufficient. Leave two men to watch over my pet and the rest of you get some sleep." Dr. Walsh instructed.

"Will do. Finn, out." Riley closed the connection and gave out the orders. The project was working perfectly.

**The next day…**

The installation of the surveillance equipment was accomplished without any problems. Agent Finn was very pleased things were going as well as they were. He was certain that he would realize a promotion when it was all said and done. The Hostile had been tranquilized and would wake up unaware he'd had company during the day. Now all that was needed was for the demon to awaken and attempt to hunt again. Finn set up a rotating shift schedule for the soldiers who would be assigned to watch the demon and track it on its nightly forays and hunting attempts. They set up posts on nearby crypts that overlooked the one the demon had chosen for its lair. Nothing could interfere with this stage of the experiment.

**Later that night…**

It had been a routine patrol. Buffy was happy that Giles had decided to come with her. It gave her someone to talk to while waiting for something interesting to fight. A rustle in the bushes caught her attention. She peered closely, stake ready, alert for whatever might be hiding there.

The demon tried to be still but hunger and fear made it difficult. He'd been hunting, hoping that this night would be different than before, that he would not suffer the crippling pain when he attempted to feed. A deep-seated unease had forced him into hiding. All his instincts were screaming for him to run, that the small human female was a danger to him. A sense of familiarity crept into his thoughts. He should know this human, this food source. Angry that he could not do what came naturally, dreading the pain that occurred when he did, he crouched in the inadequate cover provided by the shrubbery.

Buffy cautiously pulled aside some low hanging branches of the bush concealing the creature hiding there. A glimpse of platinum blond hair startled her. She backed away marginally.

"Giles? There's something here. I think maybe it's… Spike?" Buffy said uncertainly. "There's something wrong."

The Watcher moved up slowly behind his slayer. He peered over her shoulder trying to see into the brush. "If it is Spike, I'd say that classifies as something wrong. Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I mean that hair is kinda unique." She answered.

"Spike. Come out of there." She ordered. A low rumbling growl came from the depths of the greenery.

The demon was confused. The small female kept calling him by a… what was the word? A name? She kept calling him 'Spike'? What is a Spike? He shook his head. Attempting to do more than follow his instincts made his head hurt almost as bad as trying to feed had. He growled again, this time in pain. Raising his head, he scented the air. There seemed to be only the two humans. The other scents he'd detected near his new lair were not close enough for him to smell. Some of them were from 'that place' and he feared having to go back there.

Buffy heard the difference in the growling coming from the hidden demon. The hair and the black leather indicated that this was Spike but the behavior was not that of the snarky British vampire who'd helped her avoid an apocalypse. "Giles, I think he's hurt."

"How can you tell?" The Watchers asked curiously, he leaned in closer trying to get a better look at the snarling vampire.

"There's something about the way he sounds. Like he's hurting. He's never been shy before. The Spike I know would be out here trying to kick my ass." Buffy inched closer to the bush and pushed more branches out of the way.

The demon turned his head to look at the human. He should know that face. He frowned, his brow ridges shifting in confusion. He wanted to figure it out but it hurt his head to try. He growled again, finally moving out of the shrub and stalking toward the two humans.

Buffy backed carefully away from the advancing vampire. He was in full game-face. There was no recognition in the golden eyes. "Giles?" She whispered.

"I've never seen anything like this before. I wonder if we could study him. He seems to have reverted to purely demon form. Fascinating." The Watcher could not deny the overwhelming urge to figure out what had changed the vampire so much.

Without warning, Spike lunged at Buffy, fangs flashing in the light of the streetlamp yards away. He grasped her arm in a bruising grip only to let go just as fast. He dropped to his knees in front of the stunned Slayer and Watcher. He clasped his hands around his head with a howl of agony.

"Oh Dear Lord." Giles breathed. "What's _wrong_ with him?"

Buffy watched the vampire with wide green eyes but she had no answer. In seconds Spike had recovered enough to regain his feet. His golden eyes glittered with something suspiciously close to tears. The humans were startled when he ran off.

'_Run_. _Danger_.' His instincts were shrieking at him to get as far away from the small female as fast as possible. That was all he had to go by anymore. Everything else had been removed. He finally made it back to his lonely crypt. The other scents were outside his lair again, the humans from _that_ _place_. He curled up in the corner, frightened, hungry and confused.

**In a lab deep underneath U.C. Sunnydale…**

Maggie Walsh and Riley Finn watched as the demon huddled in the corner of his lair. The surveillance team had reported that the subject had at first hidden from and then attempted to assault a petite blond female and her older male companion. The only worrisome bit of information from the encounter was that the humans had appeared to recognize the Hostile. Professor Walsh gave orders for the team to monitor the situation and report any further contact with the unknown humans. They would not be allowed to interfere with the research.


	2. Capture A Demon

Capture A Demon

Disclaimer: Not sure I want to claim ownership of this particular plot bunny but I've been assured its good.

Summary: Plans are made and set in place. Will they go off without problems?

Reviews: Yes please. Reaction to the first part of this strange exploration was phenomenal. Thank you so much! Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: As I said this is an AU set in season 4. Dawn is already there but no one knows she's the Key. Joyce is a little more forceful than was portrayed in the show, just cause I want her that way. Everyone else is pretty much the same. For all those who were guessing pairings, if you read much of my work you should know I don't reveal that information strictly because when I start a fic I have no clue who Spike will chose.

Rebel Goddess: You should realize by now that Spike is my favorite Buffy-verse character as well. I never break him without a plan to put him back together better than before.

WayWard Childe: Thanks for your help and letting me bounce plot points off your head.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

As soon as they returned to his apartment, Giles poured himself a shot of Scotch. He walked over to his overfull bookcase and began perusing the titles in an attempt to find a text that would give precedence on what they had witnessed in the cemetery. Buffy began putting away weapons. She turned thoughtful green eyes toward her watcher.

"What do you think happened to him?" She suddenly found the coffee table very interesting.

Giles sipped his drink thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't know. It seems that something has stripped away the veneer of humanity and left the demon wholly in charge. It was something drastic and traumatic, I'm sure. Did it seem that he was in pain when he grabbed your arm?"

"Oh yeah, definite pain happening." The slayer chewed her lower lip distractedly. "What are we going to do about him? Stake him?"

"I'd like to study him and find out what happened. If there is a mystical force turning vampires into pure demon form, we need to know what it is. It could make your job more difficult if not impossible. But we don't know until we have the chance to investigate. We'd need a place to contain him, though." Giles gave up looking for a book, deciding to leave that search for the next day. He sat down next Buffy with a sigh. "We need to try to track him to his lair tomorrow night."

She nodded and got up. "I have early class tomorrow so I need to go make with the sleeping. I'll be by at sunset, okay?"

Rupert rose as well and escorted her to the door. "That will be fine. Maybe I'll have a plan by then."

**The next evening….**

The entire Scooby gang was out tromping through cemeteries, keeping their eyes open for the feral blond vampire. Xander and Willow were in one cemetery while the Watcher and Slayer patrolled the one they'd previously seen the vampire in. Giles had issued dart guns containing a concentrated dose of tranquilizer although he merely wanted to observe the demon before making any attempts to capture and study him. He still wasn't sure _where_ they would hold the vampire once they captured him.

Fortunately it was Giles and Buffy who spotted the vampire first. He was making his way slowly through the cemetery. He was keeping to the shadows and glancing over his shoulder frequently as if in fear. Giles was intrigued to see that Spike never dropped out of game-face. They kept quite a way behind him. Buffy grasped her Watcher's arm suddenly, halting their progress.

Aware of enhanced vampire senses, Giles whispered his protest. "Buffy, we'll lose him."

"No, we won't. All we have to do is follow them." She pointed to the two camouflage-clad men who were tailing Spike. One of them was consulting a small hand-held gadget while they trailed after the demon, not seeming to be in much of a hurry. It appeared to Buffy and Giles that the soldiers knew where they were going and weren't in any rush to get there. They seemed to be following the vampire for sport.

The demon knew he was being followed. He could smell them. The humans were from _that place_. He wanted to hunt but was afraid they would stop him and take him back. He also knew that if he tried to feed the pain in his head would return. He'd sensed they had been in his lair and wanted to find somewhere else to sleep but as long as they were following him he didn't know what to do. His instincts insisted that he keep moving, trying to lose his pursuers.

"That is not a good sign." Giles muttered.

Buffy agreed. "Not good at all. I don't know what they're up to but I'm thinking they're going a little too far."

It took a while but finally the demon gave up and just went back to his lair. He couldn't lose _those people_ no matter how hard he tried. Fear dogged his steps and hunger ate at his stomach. He curled into his corner and tried to figure out what was going on. The only problem was that every time he tried to think, panic swelled in his chest. He knew that thinking was bad and led to bad things. He could feel himself growing weak from hunger. He wanted, _needed_ to feed. A low rumble of frustration echoed deep in his chest.

Buffy and Giles kept their distance while keeping the two soldiers in sight. Eventually, the demon led them all to the crypt he'd chosen as his lair. The Slayer and her Watcher noted the watching post the soldiers had set up several yards away from the entrance to the crypt. After there was no other activity for almost half an hour, they decided to find their friends and go home. They needed a plan of action.

Neither the soldiers nor the Scoobies spotted the dark figure that drifted in the shadows provided by the trees dotting the cemetery.

**Giles's apartment…**

After Giles and Buffy filled the others in on what they'd seen, the questions began.

"Why are we thinking about helping Evil Dead? Have we forgotten the kidnapping and subsequent damage on Wills and me? I say just stake him and put us out of our misery." Xander sat on the sofa with his arms crossed mutinously across his chest.

"The soldiers were following Spike. I want to know why. I want to find out what has converted him to pure demon. Was it something they did? If so, what was it? Are they doing it to all demons or just vampires? How do we know _we're_ safe? If they find out about Buffy, what's to stop them from attempting to 'study' her?" Giles spelled out his reasons to the young man. He and Buffy had already gone over it on the way back to his apartment. Buffy had been in favor of putting the feral vampire in Angel's mansion. Giles shuddered at the thought of going back into that house and tried to come up with a better option.

"Xander, what I want to know is if you can install some chains to a wall in Buffy's basement." Giles removed his glasses as he tried to ask the question casually.

"My basement? No, no way! Think about Dawn and Mom. What if he gets loose?" Buffy screeched her protest, earning a wince from the Watcher.

"It hurt him to grab your arm. I'm guessing they've done something to him that causes pain if he hurts a human. That would explain why he isn't hunting or feeding. The fear we saw in him tonight is _not_ normal. No Master Vampire would look like that without something seriously wrong with him. We'll have him chained. Willow can magically enhance the chains so they cannot be broken. I'm sure he's weak from not being able to feed. I want to know what those soldiers are doing and who's behind it. They are a _threat_." Giles replaced his glasses and glared at his Slayer, unmovable in his position.

"But that means I have to move back home. Willow and I just got settled in as roommates and now I have to move back. It's not fair." Buffy crossed her arms and pouted.

"I'm sorry. It's only temporary. I'm sure we'll get it sorted in no time." Giles stated, his tone was mildly patronizing and a flash of irritation at her petulance flickered through his sage green eyes.

Buffy didn't hear the undertones in her Watcher's voice, only the assurance that the demon would not be allowed to mess up her life very long. She wanted to be able to pursue the cute teacher's assistant from her psychology class, Riley.

In the end, it was Rupert who went to the house on Revello Drive to speak to Buffy's mother about harboring a feral, possibly insane, vampire in her basement.

**The next day, Summers house….**

"So let me get this straight." Joyce mused as she poured tea into china cups. "That nice young vampire, William, is now fully demon and could possibly put me and Dawn in danger. You want to chain him up in my basement and study him to find out what's wrong with him."

Giles winced. "He's _not_ a nice young vampire. He's over a century old. He's evil, completely without redeeming qualities. I merely want to determine if the people who injured him could be a danger to Buffy and the other children."

Joyce sighed in exasperation. She really had no patience for anyone who refused to see the shades of grey in the world. Rupert was a very nice man but he could be so damned narrow-minded. "William has always been very nice to me. Aside from that one time at the school, that is. But he explained about that, it wasn't anything personal, just how things are between vampires and slayers. When he was here before, he was a perfect gentleman."

The Watcher choked on his tea. "Here before? _When_ was Spike here before?" He rasped as he covered his mouth with a napkin.

"When he helped Buffy save the world from Angel and then again when that heartless Drusilla of his dumped him on his ass and left him to fend for himself. Actually, since then, he's visited several times. We drink hot chocolate and talk." Joyce stated matter-of-factly. "Dawn is quite taken with him and he fairly dotes on her."

The more Buffy's mother revealed, the more horrified Giles became. "Surely you haven't introduced your innocent child to that blood-thirsty fiend?" To himself, he continued in disbelief. "_Hot chocolate_?"

"He swore both Dawn and I were safe from him and others of his kind. He told me he…. what was it he did?" She smiled, remembering the fierce look in the dark blue gaze as he assured her of their safety. "Oh, yes. 'Put the word out so no wankers would dare touch the Niblet and her mum.' It was very nice of him to do so."

Giles gaped at the smiling woman. "Oh dear Lord."

"Oh, close your mouth Rupert. Yes, you may keep Spike in the basement. Someone must be here at all times to keep an eye on him. You must provide food for him. And you must promise that if you cannot fix him, you will stake him. He won't want to exist if he cannot be as he was. I've never met anyone who has such an appreciation for his life." Joyce laid out her terms calmly, smiling slightly at the stunned expression on her companion's face.

Giles pulled his glasses off and cleaned them vigorously with his handkerchief. "I don't know what to say." He mumbled.

"It's simple. Repeat after me: 'I promise.'" She put her cup carefully on the saucer. "I know why you can't keep him at Angel's house. There's no way anyone should expect you to go back there. Also, I wouldn't want you to have to leave him there with no one to watch out for him. It will be far easier to care for him here. But if you don't promise, the deal's off."

Rupert replaced his glasses and fumbled for something to say. "Joyce, he's not an injured puppy. He's a feral vampire. Wholly demon, acting on instinct only. He's dangerous."

"Do you know that for sure?" She questioned.

He studied his teacup as if it held the answers to the questions he had. After long moments of considering her query, he shook his head. "No, I'm only going by what we've seen."

Joyce nodded briskly. "Fine, what do we have to do?"

After Giles was finished explaining his plan, she agreed that it was the most sensible course of action. She insisted he give his promise to respect the conditions she'd set before giving her full agreement. He only had to make one phone call as Willow and Xander were waiting in his apartment for the go-ahead with the plan. Xander's job was to install the chains on the wall and Willow had a simple strength enhancing spell to make the chains unbreakable. Buffy's job was to test the chains.

It wasn't long before everything was ready. As soon as Xander had finished installing the chains, he'd been sent out – protesting vociferously – to the butcher shop to purchase a hefty supply of blood. At Joyce's insistence, an iron Army surplus cot was installed below the rings drilled into the concrete wall. Giles tried to talk her out of it but she was adamant. Spike was _not_ going to sleep on the floor.

**Later…**

"What do you plan to do about the soldiers?" Joyce asked as she served the casserole she'd prepared all of them for dinner.

"Shake their hands?" Xander offered, shrinking under the glares he received from around the table. "Gee, I was just joking." Dawn kicked his shin under the table.

"No, I thought we'd merely tranquilize them and then the demon. Buffy can carry him back here while he's unconscious. I want him restrained before he wakes." Giles stated.

"I want to help take care of him." Dawn chirped.

"Dawnie, he's not a puppy. He's a vicious killer." Buffy admonished her sister.

The teenager pouted with all the sulkiness she could muster. "He's my friend." She whined.

"_You_ will stay _out_ of the basement." Giles instructed severely.

"At least until he's better." Joyce offered the compromise, ignoring the disbelieving stare she'd earned from her daughter and her Watcher.

**Later, near Spike's lair…**

The shift change for the soldiers assigned to watch the hostile went smoothly. So far the demon had not made a move but they hoped he would go out and start his nightly ramble looking for prey. Professor Walsh had been pleased with the behavior of the demon. It seemed to have learned its lessons well; it was hesitant to try to feed. It had learned that feeding caused pain. It was a matter of time before they saw the effects of a hostile that couldn't feed. The theory was that it would retain its awareness but would decline in physical appearance until it literally became a walking skeleton. Walsh was looking forward to finding out if the theory was correct.

Neither soldier saw the shadow glide up behind them. Fangs flashed and with barely a sound the first of the two was drained and dropped. The second one whirled around at the faint sound of his partner sliding to the ground. Icy blue eyes mesmerized the remaining soldier, rendering him pliable to the predator's will. A low seductive voice instructed put his gun down and throw the hand-held monitoring gadget away. A growl of frustration erupted when the sounds of the Slayer and her friends approaching echoed through the cemetery. Preternatural hearing picked up the humans long before they came into sight. With a hiss, fangs dug into the second soldier and he was drained in seconds. His body dropped silently to the ground and the vampire drifted away to keep an eye on the demon's lair.

**Minutes later…**

Xander stumbled across the body of the soldier, landing on his hands and knees with a yelp. Giles knelt next to the drained corpse, noting with alarm the twin holes in the side of the man's neck. Buffy pulled her stake out and scanned the area for the vampire responsible. Seeing nothing, the group pulled their tranquilizer guns. With her stake in one hand and her gun in the other, Buffy advanced toward the crypt door.

Inside the crypt, the demon raised his head when familiar smells assaulted his senses. The human female from before was coming toward his hiding place. Other scents underneath hers was tantalizing his nose. The male from before was there but there was another familiar scent. A word floated to the surface of the demon's confused mind. An important word. Just before the pain associated with trying to think kicked in, he tried to speak, snarling when he couldn't figure out how to say it. '_Sire_.'

Outside, Giles moved up behind Buffy in preparation to backing her up with a second tranquilizer shot. Xander and Willow held their own guns at ready, each of them keeping their eyes open for anything that might try to sneak up on them. None of the humans spotted the dark figure watching them from the shadows several yards away.


	3. Demon Studies

Demon Studies

Disclaimer: Not owning, just breaking. I'll fix em before I give em back, promise.

Summary: The studies begin. What will they discover?

Reviews: Yes please. The response for this bit of insanity is positively inspiring. Thank you all so much. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: A lot of readers have made assumptions about Giles and his interest in Spike's current condition, hope this chapter clears some of them up.

And as usual, thanks to WayWard Childe for his assistance and encouragement.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Spike heard the humans starting to move toward the door to his crypt. He swiftly rose and made his way out of his lair. His instincts were screaming at him. Danger. Run. Hunt. Kill. Feed. Hide. Conflicting emotions flooded through his system. Trying to sort them out made his chest feel as if it were being crushed. His head throbbed with the pain of trying to think. He wanted, _needed_, longed to kill and feed. His stomach ached from hunger, driving him to near madness. His strength was waning and the feeling terrified him which in turn made him angry. He hugged the stone wall and stared at the intruders with wide golden eyes.

**In the Initiative Lab…**

Maggie Walsh watched as the Hostile got up from his makeshift nest and moved toward the door to his lair. Unfortunately, the camera angle prevented them from monitoring the door itself. She picked up the radio and signaled her soldiers that their prey was on the move.

"Stallings, come in." She said. "The Hostile is moving. Are you covering?" She waited a few minutes before trying again, unaware that her men had been killed by a vampire.

"Stallings, I said the Hostile is moving. Do you have him?" Irritation colored her normally brisk tone.

"Yeah, got him." A male voice radioed back. She smiled in malicious satisfaction. She gave her assistant his instructions for the night and went home to prepare a pop quiz for Monday's class.

**Outside Spike's crypt…**

The crackle of the radio startled them all. The demon jumped in fear at hearing _that voice_ and reacted to that fear with fury. He growled and charged the small female who seemed to be the source of his 'danger, run' impulses.

Buffy ducked Spike's charge and drove her fist into his jaw, snapping his head back and throwing him backwards into the stone wall of the crypt. He recovered and charged again, this time landing a weak punch on her cheek. The second his fist met her face, he dropped to his knees with his hands clamped around his head. He screamed in agony as the electricity shot through his brain.

Xander picked up the radio and answered the female voice with a gruff 'Yeah, got him' and turned the small device off before dropping it absentmindedly into his pocket. Giles, Buffy and Willow stared in shock at the shaking vampire in front of them. Giles recovered first and raised his dart gun.

"Buffy, Willow, shoot him now. There won't be a better chance." He ordered. Three tranquilizer darts found their target and Spike fell over unconscious. Xander noticed the small black box on the ground next to one of the dead soldiers. He picked it up and flicked the switch. Immediately a red dot appeared on a green grid. He watched Buffy pick up the lifeless blond vampire and start walking to her house with him. The red dot moved with them.

"Hey, G-man. Take a look at this." He ran to catch up with the Watcher. He shoved the gadget at the older man and pointed at the dot and then at the slayer and her burden.

"Oh, dear. This is not good." Giles said. He nodded at the young man. "Good work, Xander. There must be a tracking device. We'll have to locate it and remove it before he wakes."

**Summers basement…**

Uncertain how long it would take for the darts to wear off, they wasted no time securing the unconscious vampire in the enhanced chains. Willow folded the duster they'd removed and placed it carefully on a chair in the far corner while Buffy and Giles positioned him face down on the small cot. Giles used a small spell that showed them where foreign objects could be located. Bluish lights glowed on Spike's upper right shoulder and again at the back of his tousled blond head.

"The one in his shoulder must be the tracking device." The Watcher concluded. He sent Willow upstairs for a sharp knife and raised the black t-shirt up until the area indicated by the spell was bared. The extreme skinniness of the Master Vampire shocked them all into silence. Willow returned quickly and handed a small paring knife to Giles. He felt around the smooth pale skin for a few seconds before locating a small lump just under the surface. Quickly and carefully, he sliced into the cool, unmoving flesh and dug around until he felt the bit of metal slide toward the surface. He pulled it out and handed it to Xander who dropped it on the floor and raised his foot.

"_No_! _Stop_!" Giles yelled sharply. "Flush it. I don't want this location to be the last one they receive a signal from."

Xander cringed at his nearly disastrous mistake. "Sorry, wasn't thinking." He picked up the tiny disc and raced upstairs to flush it, returning quickly.

Buffy handed gauze and tape to Giles and watched silently while he covered the wound and pulled the loose black shirt down.

Willow wrung her hands. "What do we do now?" She asked nervously.

"We wait." Giles sighed as he stood and moved away from the cot. He pulled his glasses off and cleaned them distractedly with his handkerchief. "You all have the watch schedule, right?"

The three teenagers nodded. "Good." He continued. "Buffy, I believe you're first. Oh and Willow, if you could put a sound-proofing spell on the basement, I'm sure Mrs. Summers would be most appreciative." The redhead nodded and searched her memory for a suitable spell to ensure the house's continued peace on the upper floors. A short incantation and the spacious basement was sound-proofed.

The demon fought his way out of the darkness. He shifted and groaned slightly when his right shoulder pulled and stung. He moved, trying to figure out how he got on his stomach. He stilled abruptly when his senses picked up the scents of the humans he'd seen outside his lair just before the pain had hit. The darkness had halted the pain at the time but now his return to consciousness invited the ache to invade his head again. A clinking sound echoed in his aching head. An unfamiliar weight encircled his wrists. His arms were stretched up over his head so he pulled them down to push up and raise his head off the pillow. He paused. '_Pillow_?' How did he know what the softness was? Slowly, painfully, he continued inching upwards so he could sit up. The drugs in his system made him sluggish and groggy.

The Scoobies watched curiously as the feral vampire edged his way up the wall until he was sitting. Giles was intrigued to see that the demon was still in complete control. He'd noticed that even unconscious the demon face was firmly in place. Buffy shifted on her feet nervously.

"Spike?" She asked softly.

Golden eyes swung around to fix on the Slayer. A rumbling growl began low in the vampire's chest. The demon bared his fangs and snarled as she stood watching him. He stood up on the cot and tugged at the chains. A surge of adrenaline drove the drugs out of his system and propelled him into action. He prowled along the wall, testing the length of the chains and the strength of the rings holding them.

Giles watched Spike closely. He spoke without turning. "Xander, could you and Willow go up and heat several blood bags for him. He looks undernourished."

"Shouldn't we keep him that way? I mean, hungry equals weak, right?" Xander ventured.

"No. It takes too long for hunger to do more than make him very unstable and volatile. I want to see if the demon will recede if we get him better fed." The Watcher explained patiently.

Willow took Xander's hand and led him to the stairs. "Come on. Let's go tell Mrs. Summers that he's awake."

The demon watched as two of the humans left. He relaxed fractionally as they disappeared from sight. He hopped off the cot and pulled his chains to see how far he could go. He roamed the length of the five feet of enhanced metal links, back and forth in front of the bed. He had enough room to stand two feet away from the bed. The cot had been placed off center of the chains and a couple of feet away from the corner. He surveyed the set up with a sight tilt to his head as he noted the potential hiding place at the end of the cot. He turned back to the humans with a snarl, pulling on the chains once more. His muscles strained as he struggled against the bindings. He roared his displeasure at his confinement, causing both humans to take a small step away from him.

Buffy looked at Giles with confusion in her green eyes. "Why doesn't he say anything?"

"I don't know but I intend to find out." He answered, his gaze never wavering from the prowling figure in front of them.

Xander and Willow returned with a small tray covered with warm bags of animal blood. An empty plastic mug was sitting on the tray as well.

"We didn't know if he could use a mug." Willow explained.

"I doubt it but we'll keep it for later." Giles replied as he picked up a bag of blood. Buffy put a small hand on his arm as he started to move toward the raging vampire.

"Let me." She said.

"No, we need to see if the pain works on everyone." The Watcher shook off his slayer's hand apologetically and returned to the task at hand. He held up the bag and approached the demon, unsurprised when he was grabbed and spun around until he was pulled against the thin chest. He could feel the fangs at his throat and waited calmly. A second later a howl of agony echoed through the room and Giles was abruptly released. The Watcher whirled around in time to see Spike kneeling once more with his hands wrapped around his head as he keened in pain. He picked up the bag of blood he'd dropped and held it out to the vampire.

The demon raised his pounding head and stared uncomprehendingly at the bag. He slowly lowered his hands and tilted his head. Dread welled up as he gazed at the bag. Images flashed through his mind and he whimpered. He could see himself picking up something like that, drinking from it. He could feel the pain as _those people_ began hurting him. He scrambled away from the bag and crawled along the cot until he reached the corner. He squeezed himself into the tiny space and folded his arms over his head, the chains clanking softly as he shook.

The Scoobies watched in sickened shock as the once-powerful vampire crawled along the floor and folded himself into a trembling ball of terror in the corner of the basement.

Tears welling in her large blue eyes, Willow broke the silence. "What did they do to him?" Her voice was a husky whisper.

"I think they t-tortured the humanity out of him." Giles' voice hesitated over the sentence as memories of his own torment at the hands of Angelus floated to the forefront of his mind.

"I didn't think a vampire could have humanity without a soul." Xander murmured, his whiskey hued eyes trained on the shivering vampire in the corner.

The Watcher's voice was gruff as he replied. "Spike has a bit more humanity than most vampires."

"How do you know?" Buffy turned to her mentor almost aggressively. It went against everything she believed to start thinking of vampires as anything other than things to be destroyed.

"I just do." He told her as he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let's go upstairs."

"Don't I need to stay with him?" Buffy glanced at Spike distastefully.

"No. He's not going anywhere and he can't hurt any of us. Let's leave him in peace, maybe he'll calm down." Giles began urging the teenagers toward the stairs.

They were met in the kitchen by Joyce who held out a baby monitor. "I borrowed this from Sylvia across the street. I thought we could use it to listen for Spike. That way we don't have to keep someone actually in the room with him. Willow said you had her put a sound-proofing spell on the basement but we still need to be able to hear if he needs something."

Giles took the unexpected item with a surge of gratitude for her thoughtfulness. "This will be very helpful. Thank you. I'll go install it."

In the basement, the Watcher made sure the base unit of the monitor was well out of reach of the vampire. The demon remained in the corner but was watching the human's actions through wary golden eyes. When he was finished, he slipped the receiver into his pocket and crouched in front of Spike. He slipped his glasses off again and regarded the shaking vampire with solemn sage green eyes.

"You saved my life. It's time I returned the favor." He said gently.

The platinum head tilted curiously at the soft tone the human used. It was vastly different from the harsh words he'd heard in _that place_. He wondered if it was safe to drink from the dreaded bags. He could smell the blood encased in the thin plastic and his stomach ached with hunger. His gaze flickered to the hated bags, stark hunger shining in the golden depths. His chains clinked as he shifted restlessly.

Giles followed Spike's gaze to the stack of blood bags on the abandoned tray. He picked up the one that had been dropped earlier and held it out tentatively. "I'll bet you're starving. Did they drug your blood there? Is that how they kept you in control? This isn't tainted. It's safe. You can have all you want. I'll keep buying it until you're healthy again. We'll get you back. I promise."

Spike warily watched the human crouching in front of him. He couldn't understand what was being said but the tone was comforting. He extended a shaky hand and grasped the bag, pulling to him quickly and turning slightly away from the watching human. He brought it up to his nose and sniffed it suspiciously. It didn't smell the same as the other blood they'd given him in _that place_. He poked a small hole in the plastic with one fang and took a hesitant sip. He knew it wasn't human but couldn't determine just what it was but it would sate his hunger if it wasn't _wrong_ like the other. He drank slowly, waiting for the dizziness that always followed when he drank what _those people_ had given him. His senses remained clear and he drained the bag. He dropped the empty container and looked hopefully over at the remaining stack just out of his reach. Not that he would have dared try to get around the human facing him.

Giles cautiously picked up the empty bag, setting it aside to discard later. He moved over to the tray Willow had placed on the floor and picked it up, carrying it back and placing it on a chair next to the bed. He resumed his position and held out a second bag to the starving vampire. This time the hand that reached out to grasp the nourishment was much less hesitant. The blood disappeared much quicker and the empty bag once more was dropped to the side. A third bag was offered and drained.

The demon was beginning to feel the effects of the blood filling his stomach and his eyes began to droop in exhaustion. For a fearful moment, he thought that maybe the blood had been _wrong_ after all but the other sensations were missing and he let the sleep begin to overtake his body. He didn't know why but he felt safer than he had in the lair. _Those_ _people_ weren't around, he couldn't smell them. Only the scents of the new humans were present in this new place. Some of the scents were familiar but the demon couldn't remember why. The human cautiously reached out and grasped his arm, easing him slowly out of the corner. Giles gave the vampire plenty of time to resist but he let the Watcher gently move him until he was lying on the cot.

Giles unfolded the blanket that had been placed at the foot of the bed and covered up the dozy vampire. He was asleep before the warm covering had settled.

Upstairs in the living room, Giles handed the receiver to Buffy and shakily sat down in the easy chair.

"Would you like something to drink?" Joyce offered the visibly upset Brit.

He nodded. "Yes, please."

"Some tea or something stronger?" She asked as she stood up.

"Stronger, please." Giles answered with a grateful nod.

Buffy watched her mother move over to the cabinet in the dining room and pour a stiff drink. "I didn't know we had that." She said, surprised.

"There's a reason for that you know." Joyce teased her daughter gently. Dawn clattered noisily down the stairs.

"And why are you out of bed?" Joyce admonished her.

"Is Spike here? Is he all right? I want to see him." The thirteen-year-old chattered. "And it's Saturday tomorrow."

Giles sipped his drink and gave a sigh of delight. "He's here but he's far from all right. I don't want you anywhere near him yet as we don't know how he'll react."

"What's he doing now?" Buffy asked.

"Sleeping. I got him to drink three bags of blood and he went to sleep." Giles pulled his glasses off and sat forward, his elbows on his knees. His glass hung from his fingertips and he inhaled deeply. "I don't know that those soldiers did to him but we are going to fix it."

"Not to question your judgment or anything, but why do you care?" Xander asked disbelievingly.

Rupert replaced his glasses and raised tired eyes to the boy. "Let's just say, I owe him and leave it at that."

Buffy got quiet when she remembered Spike's part in Giles' escape from Angelus two years before. It was her Watcher's story to tell so she kept silent.

"Now I think it's time we all retired and approach the situation more refreshed tomorrow. I think he'll sleep the night through." Giles finished his drink and stood.

Buffy nodded and waved the monitor. "Got the ear on. See you tomorrow."

They all said their good nights and solemnly went to their individual homes haunted by the memory of one of the most feared vampires in history shaking in fear in a corner.

**Next morning…**

Riley Finn stood over the cold bodies of the two soldiers who'd been assigned to watch the Hostile. He'd been awakened early by the relief shift due to take over the monitoring station. Finn noticed the puncture marks on the necks of the corpses and the absence of the radio and tracking device. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and made the call to report that not only were two of their people were dead but they had lost the Hostile. It was _not_ going to be a good day.

**_TBC_**


	4. Demon Mysteries

Demon Mysteries

Disclaimer: I want Spike for my birthday, damn it! Oops, sorry didn't mean to let that slip out. Unless that little miracle happens, I still don't own anything.

Summary: There are so many mysteries and no answers to be had.

Reviews: Yes please. Loving all the attention this fic has gotten, thank you. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Had every intention of writing the next chapter of 'Resurrected' when I sat down at the trusty little laptop. But this is what came out. Demon Spike seems to have taken over the muse's attention. Hope you like it.

Girl Version of Chandler: This is NOT a fluffy Puppy/Spike fic. There will be some seriously dark and disturbing revelations later on. If you're looking for cute puppyish behavior, you won't find it here.

WayWard Childe: You just rock.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Later Saturday morning, Initiative Lab….**

Riley Finn stood at attention in front of his boss. Maggie Walsh was a very, very unhappy scientist. Her pet project had escaped and no one knew where he'd gone. The two soldiers assigned to watch him had been drained by a vampire and they couldn't be certain it hadn't been the Hostile that had done it.

"Do we have a fix on the tracking device?" She asked as she consulted a readout on a clipboard.

"Yes, but it seems to be at the bottom of the wastewater treatment plant. It's been removed from the Hostile, Ma'am." Riley answered.

"_How _did this_ happen_?" The scientist demanded, slamming the clipboard down onto a desk.

Riley studied the floor. "I don't know but I will find out."

"You're right. You _will_ find out and return the Hostile to the lab. This phase of the experiment is over and I have to report it a dismal failure. _Damn_! I _hate_ this." Maggie fumed. A thought occurred to her. "Those people who seemed to know the Hostile the other night, did we ever find out who they were?"

Riley shook his head. "Unfortunately, it was Stallings and Wilson who saw them and now they're dead. But I'll see what I can find out." He promised.

"I want to know by tonight." She ordered.

Riley blinked. There was no way he was going to be able to accomplish it that quickly but he knew better than to argue. "I'll do my best."

"You'll do better than that." Her face was set and furious. "Dismissed." Riley wisely left as quickly as he could.

**Summers house…**

Buffy thumped the monitor down on the table with a scowl on her face. Joyce glanced from it to her eldest daughter. "How did you sleep?" She asked.

Buffy grimaced. "Not good." She complained. "He grunted, growled and whimpered all night long. I had to put a pillow over my head to get any peace."

Joyce indicated the monitor. "He seems to be quiet now."

The slayer looked guilty and reached over to turn the volume back on. Immediately rumbling growls spilled from the tiny speaker. The older woman moved to the refrigerator and took out several packets of blood. She handed them to Buffy. "Heat these up and take them down to him. I'm sure he's hungry."

Buffy pouted. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, it's part of the agreement for you to keep him here." A tap at the back door distracted the women and Buffy took the opportunity to avoid her assigned task to answer the summons. Xander wandered in and picked up a slice of toast from the basket on the table.

"How are you lovely ladies today?" Xander asked cheerfully before taking a huge bite of his stolen snack. He spotted the monitor, listening to the sounds emanating from it for long moments. "How did he sleep?" The question was asked in a quieter tone than the previous one, memories of Spike huddled in the corner quivering in terror sobering the young man.

Buffy busied herself microwaving the bags of blood her mother handed her. "Not at all, therefore I didn't, good thing it's Saturday. No class to try to stay awake for. Are you my relief shift?"

The shaggy dark head of the male Scooby nodded with trepidation. "Yup, I'm the next one up for vamp-sitting. Ummm, why?"

Dawn bounced into the room before she could answer. "Are those for Spike?" She pointed at the small stack of blood. "Can I feed him, please?" She pleaded.

"No, Dawnie, he's not a puppy. You can go down and see him when he's feeling better and you can't go by yourself." Joyce wagged her finger when her youngest pouted. "And don't look like that. Spike himself told you how dangerous he is. He would have your head if he knew you deliberately put yourself in danger."

Xander finished his toast with a gulp. "Actually, he can't hurt us. They did something to him." Buffy glared at her friend for revealing that bit of information.

"_What_? You saw what happened when he tried to snack on Giles." He defended himself.

"See, Mom. He can't hurt me. Please, please, _please_ can I go down and see him?" Dawn begged.

Joyce gazed at Buffy and Xander. "Who are the '_they'_ and what happened when he tried to '_snack on Giles'_?" Her hazel eyes were as icy as her tone.

Buffy glanced at Dawn and, in a rare moment of discretion, decided it wasn't something a thirteen-year-old needed to hear. Joyce followed the look and nodded. "We _will_ discuss this later." She warned.

Dawn bounded over to the back door when another knock sounded. She ushered Giles in with her normal youthful enthusiasm. "I want to visit Spike." She announced to him as soon as the door had swung shut.

"I don't think that's a good idea." The Watcher said gently. She pouted as she rummaged through the cupboard for a bowl and box of cereal. He noticed the cooling pile of blood bags. "Is there a reason those are up here instead of downstairs being fed to Spike?" His tone chilled considerably as he asked the question.

Buffy sent a guilty look toward the basement door. "No, not really."

Joyce picked up the tray and headed for the basement. "Oh, for Pete's sake, I'll feed him. Honestly, I don't understand you two." Buffy and Xander gaped at her.

"But, Mom, he _did_ try to kill us." Buffy sputtered.

"More than once." Xander felt compelled to add.

"Well, he didn't." Joyce declared as she paused by the open door. "Given his reputation, don't you think that if he really wanted to kill you he would have?"

Giles blinked as she disappeared down the stairs. He swiped the monitor off the table, switched it off and stuck it in his pocket before following her.

Downstairs, Spike was prowling along the top of the cot. Roaming back and forth against the wall restlessly, tugging on the chains. He kept up a steady stream of growls and snarls as he reached the end of the bed and turned around to go back the other way. He stopped when the adults reached the bottom step. He whirled around to face them, baring his fangs and roaring his displeasure.

Joyce pushed the tray into Giles' hands and walked slowly across the floor toward the young vampire she considered a friend. He stopped his movements as she grew closer, crouching down on the mattress and raising his head to sniff her scent.

The demon watched the female walk over to him. He inhaled and her scent washed over him. Safety. Concern. Friendship. Those were the emotions associated with this new human who watched him so intently. He tilted his head curiously when the smell of salt hit his sensitive nose. The female had wetness on her face. The sight sent a wave of inexplicable sadness through his too thin frame.

Joyce let her tears fall as she drew closer to the vampire. He didn't appear to know who she was and the thought made her heart ache. She couldn't understand why anyone would do such a cruel thing to anyone regardless of whether they were demon or human. There was no excuse for the kind of mistreatment that William had obviously suffered. She stopped a short distance from the cot. She picked up the empty tray from the chair, sat down and gazed sadly at the empty blood bags scattered on the floor.

Giles set his burden down on the floor next to Joyce and began gathering the discarded empties. "I guess he got hungry during the night." He murmured.

"My God, Rupert. How could anyone do such a terrible thing?" She wiped her face and sniffled a little.

"Not everyone knows Spike the same way you do." The Watcher finished cleaning up and deposited the bags in a trash bin on the other side of the room. "They only see that he's a vampire and not worth consideration. He's a demon and must be treated as an animal. I don't happen to agree. I may not like him but he did earn a bit of respect when he betrayed Angelus and assisted Buffy. He's loud, rude, hyper-active and a general pain in the ass but you are quite correct. If he truly wanted to kill us, he would have a long time ago."

Joyce smiled at the accurate assessment. "Yes, he is all that and more. He treats Dawn as a precious younger sister and he's always been a perfect gentleman with me. He gave us his protection. I don't know what that means in the demon community but I feel better for it, strange as that sounds."

"You should. It means a great deal in the demon world. He's a Master Vampire, a force to be feared. There are few demons who would be brave enough to cross William the Bloody by harming someone he'd given his protection to. You are very fortunate to have such a formidable champion." The Watcher crouched next to the cot, picked up a bag and extended it toward Spike.

They were surprised when he ignored the offering and scooted to the edge of the bed, his golden eyes trained on Joyce. He sat absolutely still as he studied her. His intense stare began at the top of her ash blonde hair, trailed down to gaze into her hazel eyes. He dropped his eyes to take in the rest of her appearance before returning to look into her eyes again.

Afraid to look away, Joyce spoke to Giles. "What is he doing?"

"I'm not sure. I've never seen this sort of behavior in a feral creature before." Rupert told her.

"You think he's _feral_?" Joyce's voice quavered.

"Yes, for now. I also think he can be brought back." Giles stated softly as he observed the absolute stillness of the demon. Both humans were startled when he moved suddenly, jumping up from his seat on the edge of the cot and scrambling into his corner. He squeezed himself into the tiny space the same way he had the night before and folded his arms over his head. A high keening noise burst from him as he rocked back and forth as much as the confined area would allow.

The demon couldn't stand the feelings the female had generated in his chest. An overwhelming sense of loss flooded his being as he sought refuge in his corner. He felt as if he'd lost something vital, something…no…_someone_ he couldn't live without. Trying to reason away the feeling made his head hurt and his chest ache. The female smelled like…_home_ and he needed to know _why_. But thinking was bad. Thinking and speaking earned him punishment. They were painful lessons he wouldn't soon forget so trying to vocalize his fears was out of the question. Humans meant **_pain_** and he was _not_ going to make the mistake of trusting them no matter what his instincts were telling him. And they were trying to tell him he could trust them. The scent of this new female was familiar and nice and… **_home_**. Every time he looked at her he felt it… **_home_**. He'd looked into her eyes and had seen _caring_. It had been so _long_. His rocking slowed and he panted needlessly. He rested his head on his knees and wondered why the rough material covering his legs was getting wet. He didn't know he was crying. Demons. Don't. **_Cry_**.

Shocked into silence, Joyce rose from the chair. She and Rupert backed away from the shaking vampire. By unspoken agreement, they went back upstairs, leaving him in peace. Her face was once more wet with silent tears that streamed down and dripped off her jaw. Giles pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her. She accepted it gratefully.

Upstairs, Xander was the only one left in the kitchen. Dawn had gone to watch Saturday morning cartoons and Buffy had gone back to bed, grumbling about restless demons who snarled and growled all night.

"Well? How is he?" Xander asked. He'd gotten himself a cup of coffee and was seated at the table sipping it contemplatively. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before as the disturbing sight of Spike huddled into a corner shaking had plagued his dreams. He'd hated the bleached menace since the kidnapping the year before but the sight of Spike reduced to terror was sobering.

Giles pulled the monitor from his pocket and turned it back on. He placed it on the table and accepted Joyce's offer of a cup of coffee. He preferred tea but needed something to jump-start his system after the restless night he'd had trying to forget the condition Spike had been in.

Joyce wiped the tears from her face and put the handkerchief into her pocket to launder. She took a deep breath, picked up her cup from earlier, taking it over to the coffee maker and filling it up. Waiting until she'd taken a seat at the table to answer the young man's question, she finally felt composed enough to say something.

"There's nothing of Spike left in there. He doesn't know me. We're _friends_ and _he doesn't know who I am_." She closed her eyes, fighting the return of her tears. "I _hate_ whoever did this." She declared fiercely. "I want them dead." That statement provoked shocked stares from her companions.

"Joyce, they are human. We can't kill them." Giles told her gently. Her hazel eyes flared with hatred.

"They may be human but there is _no_ _humanity_ in them. I don't care what they think they're doing, that isn't right. It's cruel in the extreme. If Spike were a pet they would be up for charges of animal abuse." She ranted.

"B—but Mrs. Summers…" Xander started but she cut him off.

"No. No buts. It's not right." Joyce sipped her coffee in an attempt to control her raging temper.

"Joyce, I understand you're attachment to Spike but he is the type of creature your own daughter has been chosen to vanquish." Giles began his argument.

"No, you _don't_ understand. Maybe if it were Xander down there you'd get it. Xander who'd been turned and captured. Experimented on until all traces of what made him who he is erased. How would you feel? Or what if it were Willow or even Buffy?" Tears welled again at the memory of Spike crouched in the corner.

Giles paled at the thought of any one of his acquired family suffering the same fate that had befallen Spike. "I probably would feel the same way you do." He finally admitted after long minutes of contemplating the horrifying images. It reminded him of his own theory that the children were far from out of danger. The girls especially could be considered prime targets what with Buffy being the slayer and Willow emerging as a powerful Wicca.

Xander shook himself from the horrifying vision of a demon version of himself chained up in the basement below them. Unusually serious, he picked up a paper napkin and began to shred it. "G-man, I think I want to point out that while the Buffster might indulge in a bit of banter while she's kicking the crap out of a demon or a vamp, she doesn't torture them. I have to agree with Mrs. S here. Torture is wrong no matter who does it."

Giles had the private thought that his slayer's brand of banter could be classified as a form of torture but refrained from actually saying it. Instead he requested they help him try to figure out how to return the blond vampire back into the snarky pain in the ass they all knew. The discussion lasted most of the afternoon broken by periodic trips downstairs to replenish the feral demon's blood supply. They had been relieved to find that Spike had succumbed to his normal vampiric sleeping schedule and had crawled into his bed, falling into an exhausted sleep. They were also interrupted by the occasional raid on the refrigerator by Dawn, who took every trip into the kitchen as an opportunity to goggle at Xander and attempt to wheedle a visit to her vampiric friend from her mother.

Buffy wandered through late in the afternoon for a snack and to inform them that she was returning to her dorm room to see if there were any messages for her from that cute teacher's assistant, Riley Finn.

**The next day…**

Sunday morning once again found Riley Finn standing at attention while a ranting Maggie Walsh paced in front of him. He'd reluctantly been forced to confess that he'd made no progress in locating the humans who had seemed to know the escaped Hostile. The report that they didn't have a clue about the current whereabouts of the missing Hostile had sent the scientist into a raging fury. Finally, she wound down and instructed him to continue the investigation as soon as the sun set. He departed with a huge sigh of relief and headed straight for his room where he proceeded to call that pretty girl he wanted to ask out for a date, ignoring the derision of his friends about how 'odd' Buffy Summers was.

_**TBC**_


	5. Deadly Demon

Deadly Demon

Disclaimer: I own nothing that you'd want to sue me for.

Summary: Terror and nightmares.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Thanks to WayWard Childe for his input and continued support.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Late Sunday afternoon, Summers house…**

Sunday passed much the same way Saturday had. Giles spent his afternoon at the Summers residence taking to Joyce and attempting to figure out the best course of action in caring for the feral vampire ensconced in the basement. Xander had stopped by but after they'd gone over the information the third time, he decided to go home try to sleep. He confessed to the adults that he was suffering nightmares of being captured and tortured by faceless soldiers. Neither Joyce nor Giles could offer the younger man any helpful advice.

Buffy hummed happily as she virtually danced up the sidewalk of her house. She'd met that nice Riley Finn for a mid-afternoon coffee date and they had hit it off enormously. She was more than ready for a normal relationship with a normal guy. He'd been so sweet when he'd hesitantly asked if he could kiss her good-bye when he'd dropped her off at the dorm. After nearly half an hour of good-byes she'd finally floated into her room to interrupt Willow's homework with a gushing description of the afternoon.

Joyce looked up as Buffy entered the kitchen and dreamily went over to the refrigerator for a bottle of water.

"Hello, Dear. How was your date?" Joyce asked.

"Absolutely perfect." The blonde sighed.

Giles frowned and cleaned his glasses. "How much do you know about this young man?" He asked.

Buffy sat down and glared at the nearly silent monitor. She chose to ignore the question her father-figure asked. She could hear a low grumbling from the apparently sleeping vampire. "How's the beast in the basement?" She asked, sipping her water.

"Buffy! Don't call him names." Joyce admonished.

"He's defenseless. Dependent on us for his existence, it wouldn't hurt you to show a little compassion." Rupert told the slayer.

"He's a vampire. Compassion was not part of any training I got about them." Buffy finished her water and stood up. "Has he been fed yet?"

Giles went over and removed several bags of blood from the refrigerator. "No. Are you volunteering?"

"I guess." The slayer mumbled resentfully. She took the offered bags and carried them to the microwave. "All part of the agreement, right?"

"That's right, Dear. Thank you for remembering." Joyce allowed a small smirk as she watched her daughter resentfully heat the blood. As he resumed his seat, Giles noticed the expression on the woman's face. He had to hide a tiny smile at the sight. Joyce apparently had a little bit of an evil streak. The adults watched as Buffy stacked the bags on a tray and disappeared through the basement door.

"I do believe you enjoyed that just a bit." Giles commented dryly.

"Who? Me?" Wide eyed innocence accompanied the denial.

**Downstairs… **

_He was cold. The floor beneath his nude body was freezing. He curled even tighter, trying to stop the shivering that seemed to be a permanent part of his existence. He ached from the last round of 'lessons'. The electricity that had been sent through his system every time he'd opened his mouth to speak made his muscles clench and burn. He didn't know how, but they knew exactly how much electricity they could use and not dust a vampire. And they used their knowledge to devastating effect. He couldn't figure out why they were torturing him the way they were. They didn't want him to talk. They told him repeatedly not to even think. He was a thing, therefore thinking and speaking were forbidden. He buried shaking fingers through his mussed hair, clutching his aching head. He wanted to be out of there. He wanted to go find Dru even though she'd left him again and told him not to come back. He wanted blood that didn't make him dizzy and weak but still awake enough to feel every cut and probe they inflicted on his body. A small sob escaped as he realized what he really wanted more than anything. He wanted _Joyce_. She'd soothe him and tell him everything would be all right just like she did when Dru had left him the first time. He wanted _home

The demon sleeping on the cot shifted and whimpered in his sleep. Buffy glared at him as she walked closer with the tray of blood. She put it on the chair and put her hands on her hips. "Hey, wake up. Dinner's here. Eat it or I'll take it back upstairs."

The scent of one of _those_ _people_ roused the demon faster than a splash of cold water. He woke and jumped up to kneel on the cot, swinging his head from side to side trying to find the source of the scent. The only human in the room was the small female he'd seen before. She hadn't smelled that way then. He got to his feet, standing in the center of the bed. His chains clanked and rattled with his movements. A growl began low in his chest and grew in volume until he was roaring. His fangs flashed in the light and he leaned forward against his restraints. He jumped from the mattress onto the floor by the bed. He advanced slowly on Buffy causing her to back up out of range. As he got closer, the scent got stronger until it was all he could smell. Rage welled in his chest. It was one of _them_. One of the _humans_ who had hurt him and kept him in that cell. His scent was all over that female standing in front of him. He leaned toward the female, straining against his chains. His arm muscles bulged as he fought to free himself from the enchanted links, leaning forward with his arms dragged backwards as his body strained. All of his attention was focused on freeing himself so he could kill the source of the scent.

Giles and Joyce looked at each other in shock when they heard Spike's enraged roar. As one, they shoved away from the table and rushed to the basement door. They clattered down the steps and stopped in shock at the sight of the furious demon apparently trying to pull his arms off to free himself and get to Buffy.

"_Spike_! _Stop_!" Giles yelled. He pulled the tranquilizer gun from his pocket and aimed at the infuriated vampire. Feral golden eyes swung around to glare at the Watcher. A warning roar echoed in the spacious basement. Joyce stood slightly behind Giles. Her hand covered her mouth as her huge eyes welled with fresh tears. "_Buffy_! Get out of here!" Giles ordered.

The slayer scooted around the adults and raced up the stairs. As soon as the source of the scent was gone, Spike relaxed fractionally. He began pacing along the cot. He kept pulling at the cuffs surrounding his wrists and Giles noticed with a sick sinking in his stomach that the skin on Spike's wrists had rubbed raw from his struggles. Blood was beginning to drip from his fingers as he prowled to the end of his chains and back again. Rupert felt a trembling hand grasp his upper arm.

"Oh, God. He's bleeding. Do something." Joyce whispered. Spike's head swung around and he fixed his golden gaze on her. He stopped pacing and stood watching the humans for long moments. Giles' arm had started to drop but he pulled it back up to aim the gun at Spike again.

"I'm sorry." He murmured as he pulled the trigger.

**Later Sunday night, Xander's basement…**

The brunette Scooby tossed and turned on the pullout sofa he used for a bed. Under normal circumstances it was uncomfortable in the extreme. He shifted restlessly as his dreams were invaded by unknown men in camouflage uniforms. He gasped in his sleep as he tried to escape their pursuit. Sweat bloomed on his forehead as his unconscious fear flooded his body.

_He ran through the cemetery as fast as humanly possible. Glancing back at his pursuers, he dodged yet another headstone. They were closer than they had been only a few seconds before. His breath wheezed out of his overworked lungs and he could feel his legs tiring. 'Why are they chasing me? What did I do?' Xander's thoughts raced with his feet as he sought to find a place where he could hide from the commandos. With a yelp, Xander tripped on a flat grave marker. He cursed as he hit the ground hard and rolled over in an attempt to hide in the bushes. Waves of agony shot through his body as the prongs from a tazer attached themselves to his torso. _

Xander woke with a cry of imagined pain, shuddering as he pulled gulps of air into his laboring lungs. He picked up the television remote with a violently shaking hand, knowing he wouldn't get anything resembling a peaceful night's sleep any time soon. He huddled in the corner of his sofa bed and stared at the flickering screen until his eyes could no longer remain open.

**Restfield cemetery…**

The commandos were patrolling in teams of twos, one team to an area. The vampire watching in the shadows smiled with vicious glee when it was noted that they were leaving themselves so open. A silent glide brought the predator close to a soldier who'd lagged behind his partner. A preternaturally strong hand clamped over the hapless soldier's mouth before he had a chance to utter even the tiniest of sounds. Fangs flashed in the dim light of the cemetery and the soldier was drained of his life. The vampire dropped the dead man onto the hard packed dirt and drifted up to the victim's clueless partner. Another stealthy movement and the second victim of the night was dispatched efficiently. A low chuckle floated across the still air of the cemetery as the deadly figure seemingly melted into the shadows again, fading away like a wraith and leaving behind the corpses of two of the humans who'd done so much to hurt the Childe.

**Summers house, later…**

Giles packed the first aid supplies back into the kit and closed it up. He moved it off his lap onto the chair they'd been using as a table. With his hands free, he succumbed to habit and removed his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose wearily before pulling out his handkerchief and distractedly began polishing the already gleaming spectacles. He gazed thoughtfully at the slumbering vampire. The first tranquilizer dart had knocked him off his feet but Rupert had been forced to use a second more potent dose to send the furious demon into unconsciousness. He replaced his glasses. Reluctantly, he refastened the cuffs around the fresh bandages he'd applied to the badly bleeding wrists.

Standing, he paused for long moments visually cataloging the appearance of the damaged vampire. The normally slicked back platinum hair was tousled and curled wildly around his head. The roots were longer than Giles had ever seen them, giving the Watcher a clue to the original color of Spike's hair. The all black uniform of t-shirt and jeans was faded and tattered as if he'd been unable to obtain new ones when the old ones wore out. Regular feeding had begun to fill out the too-thin frame of the already slightly built young vampire but he was still woefully undernourished. The porcelain skin of his lean face was still paler than was normal and had an ashen hue. The demon visage was still firmly in place, an anomaly that puzzled the Watcher tremendously. Giles wondered what sort of tortures Spike had been subjected to. He both cursed and blessed the fact that vampires tended to heal without scarring, erasing any evidence of injuries.

"_What_ did they _do_ to you?" Giles asked softly, the question full of frustration. He'd given up expecting an answer. He was close to giving up on _ever_ finding out. It had to have been horrific for the demon to come to the fore and stay there without showing even a shred of the humanity that Giles knew resided in the annoying blond vampire.

He looked around the otherwise empty basement, Joyce having gone back upstairs to find out what had happened to make Spike try to attack Buffy. He sighed and returned his sage green gaze to Spike. Even heavily tranquilized, Spike was restless. His hands were twitching and his legs jerked spastically. Distractedly, Giles noticed there was blood smeared on the back of his hand. Reopening the first aid kit, he took out a prepackaged alcohol wipe, opened it and rubbed at the red streak.

The demon twitched as the smell of the antiseptic hit his nose. Fear welled in his chest and he whimpered in his sleep. Giles noticed Spike's increased distress. The unconscious vampire's head began rocking back and forth on the mattress. His chest started rising and falling as he panted needlessly. His whimpers grew louder as he started to wake up. Anticipation of the pain he associated with that smell forced his eyes open. Giles watched closely and started when the thick dark lashes lifted suddenly. The human recoiled at the fear he could see in the hazy golden depths. Rupert knelt next to the cot and extended his hand slowly. Spike sat up and pulled his knees up to his chin, obviously trying to become as small as possible. The trembling that began in his hands and spread through his lean body caused the chains to clink softly.

Giles bit his lip and gently placed his hand on Spike's bare foot. He'd removed the vampire's battered boots hoping to make him more comfortable. Fearful eyes followed the warm hand as it approached. He jumped as the fingers made contact.

"Spike. Talk to me. Tell me what they did. I don't know how to help you." The soothing tone the older man used surprised the terrified vampire.

The demon took a long unneeded breath. He opened his mouth. He knew he should try but was afraid it was a trick. They had done that before. Shown him kindness and then punished him when he spoke. He eventually learned not to think, not to speak. He was a thing. That's the lesson he'd learned. That he wasn't allowed to think or speak. He knew he was breaking the rules even then by trying to reason it all out. He tilted his head, looking warily at the human kneeling next to the narrow cot. This human seemed different. He didn't smell like anyone who'd been in _that_ _place_.

"That's it, Spike. You can talk. It's all right. Tell me what they did. They will pay, I swear. Somehow they will be stopped." Giles urged softly.

Long tense minutes passed while Spike studied the man encouraging him to break the rules. But the lessons were too strong, too severe to be ignored. He closed his mouth and turned his face away towards the wall. His thin shoulders shook as his pants began to resemble sobs. Giles dropped his head as he realized that there would be no progress in Spike's recovery just yet. He removed his glasses with trembling fingers as he pulled his other hand back from the demon's foot.

Standing, he collected the first aid kit and made sure the blood was within easy reach. Fatigue dogged his steps as he walked over to the stairs. With one last glance back at the still shaking vampire, Giles returned to the kitchen to check on his slayer.

**Later…**

Wearily, Giles unlocked the door to his apartment. It had been an exhausting weekend. He was at a loss for a solution to Spike's condition. Buffy had denied antagonizing the feral vampire and since both he and Joyce had heard everything that had been said, they could not refute her story. There had to be a reason why Spike had tried to attack the slayer but until they could get him to speak, that reason would remain a mystery.

Rupert dropped his keys on the coffee table and strode purposefully over to the bookcase that concealed his liquor supply. He poured himself a large quantity of his best Scotch, tipping a good quarter of the glass down his throat immediately. With a tired sigh, he walked back to the sofa and collapsed onto it.

Outside, the vampire had waited patiently for the Watcher to return to his home. The whereabouts of the Childe were still a mystery but one that would be solved soon. In absolute silence, the predator glided up to the apartment door. A ghostly white hand raised and knocked purposefully.

Giles groaned as the knock sounded. He heaved himself up and made his way back across the room. In his exhaustion, he forgot to check the peephole and swung the door open. Fear shot through his body as he saw who stood on his doorstep. He fell back on aggression to cover his terror. Hatred colored his vision red and he spat out his question.

"_What do you want_?"

_**TBC**_


	6. A Demon To Help

A Demon To Help

Disclaimer: I don't own them but I like to play with them, a lot.

Summary: There's a demon that needs help and another one to offer it.

Reviews: Yes please. The reviews for this fic have been positively inspiring. There are new names on the review list! Yay! **_Thank you sooo much_**! Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: I actually started the next chapter of 'Resurrected' but Demon/Spike just took over the computer and wouldn't leave until this was finished. WayWard Childe says I **_have_** to go finish the other chapter now and let this story be for a couple of days. Thanks for keeping me in line, Partner!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Late Sunday night…**

Dawn knew she had to be absolutely silent. Buffy had the monitor and the teenager didn't know if the volume was on or not. Stealthily, she tiptoed down the stairs, through the kitchen and pulled the basement door open, thankful that Xander had taken the time to oil all the door hinges so none of them squeaked any more. Terrified she would misstep and alert the others that she was disobeying her mother and Mr. Giles' orders, she slipped silently down the basement stairs. She was thrilled to see that they were leaving the lights on so she could see. She paused halfway down when she got her first look at the vampire she called her friend. He was sitting on the cot with his back to the wall. His head was resting on his knees and his arms were locked around his legs.

The demon heard the human as she descended the stairs. He waited tensely until the nearly silent footsteps stopped before reaching the bottom. A familiar scent reached his nose. He should know this human. Slowly, he raised his head and lifted his golden eyes to the slender girl on the stairs. His eyes widened. This was like no other human he could remember seeing. This human had a glow about her. He tried to remember what the color was, searching through his mind for the right word. He hoped he wouldn't get into trouble for daring to think but he felt safe here. It wasn't like _that_ _place_. The humans here were different. They hadn't hurt him. They'd fed him and bandaged his wrists. Triumphantly he hit upon the correct word. _Green_. This human girl had a green glow around her. Tiny sparks that flashed and flickered through the air surrounding her. He wondered if anyone else had seen but didn't want to dwell too much on it. It was one thing to find a single word and quite another to attempt whole thoughts. Another word sneaked its way past the block he'd put around his thinking processes. _Niblet_. Somehow he knew this word had something to do with the small human that was now slipping down the stairs toward his bed.

Dawn padded across the basement floor on bare feet. She looked around the spacious room and spotted the sender for the monitor in Buffy's room. Quickly, she went over and turned if off hoping that since Spike was currently silent, her sister wouldn't notice the lack of signal. This was Spike, she told herself. She'd seen his demon face lots of times. He used to sneak up and try to scare her by vamping out but after the first couple of times she would just laugh at his efforts. She'd missed him so much after the last time he'd gone looking for Drusilla. She wondered who'd done something to her friend to make him stay in his demon face all the time. She crossed the floor and picked up the tray from the chair next to Spike's bed. She slowly slid the tray onto the floor and sat down, never taking her huge blue eyes off her vampire friend.

"Spike? It's me, Dawn. I've missed you so much. They told me I couldn't come down and see you until you were better but I couldn't wait." A tear rolled down her face. Spike tilted his head curiously but otherwise didn't move from his position. She swiped at the wayward tear and tried to smile.

The smell of salt mixed with the familiar scent of the human sitting next to his bed. For reasons he couldn't understand, he felt sadden by the smell. A tiny noise sounded deep in his throat, not a growl or a whimper but a sound meant to soothe and comfort. He didn't know where the impulse came from but felt he needed to make this small female feel better.

Dawn heard Spike begin what sounded suspiciously like a purr deep in his throat. She smiled at the sound and took a deep breath. Not sure what to do, she fell back on what all thirteen year old girls did best. She told him all the gossip that she could think of that had happened since she'd seen him last.

The demon listened curiously to the young human sitting there chattering. He didn't understand a lot of what she was saying but she seemed encouraged by the sound he produced from his throat, so he continued the low steady hum. He noticed after a while that she appeared tired and he gazed at her worriedly. Her words began to slow and she opened her mouth widely several times. He struggled with his torture induced confusion until he came to the conclusion that the small female needed sleep. He moved slowly, not wanting to frighten her. He stood up and put a gentle hand on her drooping shoulder and urged her toward the cot.

Dawn realized that her talking was slowing down and she was yawning more often than speaking. She was surprised when Spike began to move and had to consciously brace herself to keep from jumping when he put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up into his golden eyes as he gave her a gentle push toward the bed. Suddenly exhausted, she acquiesced and stretched out on the thin mattress. Her dark lashes fluttered shut as he pulled his warm blanket up to cover her. She smiled as she drifted off to sleep. Demon or not this was Spike and she trusted him beyond anyone else except her mother.

The demon stood gazing down at the tiny glowy form on his bed. Since it was the middle of the night, he was not very sleepy and wanted to keep watch over his small charge. Careful to keep his chains still so they wouldn't rattle and disturb the girl, he eased over to the head of the bed and crouched down into his corner. He slowly and cautiously raised his hand so he could caress the silken dark hair spilling across the mattress. He continued the soothing noise in his throat as she slept. Hours later, still weakened from his captivity, the demon slid into sleep with his long slender fingers gently tangled in the hair of his young friend.

**Giles' apartment…**

The watcher waited for an answer to his hostile question. He glared at his visitor and was stunned when a beaming smile graced the pale face.

"You have been helping my William. I'm here to help _you_." Drusilla told him, surprisingly lucid.

"What do you mean? _How_ can you help me?" Giles questioned suspiciously.

The beautiful vampire continued to smile at him. He'd had dealings with her before and knew her to be insane in the extreme. He'd fallen for her thrall and had given her Sire, Angelus, the information he'd needed to end the world. Fortunately for them all Spike had conspired with Buffy to stop his grandsire.

"My William has been damaged. They put something in his head. Bits of wire and plastic that hurt him. Can't hunt, can't feed, can't kill." She bared her teeth and snapped with each 'can't'. She put her hands up to her head and closed her eyes. "Poor boy. So lost and confused. The stars are screaming. The Watcher and the Key can save him. Mummy must help." She pulled her hands down and opened her icy blue eyes. "The bad soldier boys have tortured my Childe. They are dying. Two at a time until they are all gone. The doctor will be last. My beautiful boy will have her."

She took an unneeded breath and seemed to snap out of her rambling. "I am here to help you tame the demon and return my Spike to himself. Invite me in, Watcher. You are safe from me."

Giles glared at his visitor. "There is no way in Hell I will invite you into my home."

Drusilla smiled indulgently and nodded. "Yes, you will. You need me to get the answers you seek. I can reach my Spike through the confusion."

She leaned gracefully on the door frame and began to talk. Giles listened in horrified fascination to what she had to say and, when she was finished, did indeed invite her into his home.

**Very early Monday morning…**

Riley ran his hand through hair that he'd barely had time to comb on his way out of the door. He sighed as he tried to figure out what he was going to tell Professor Walsh. She was not going to like this newest development. He looked around at the patrol team that had called him to report that they'd found two more of their number cold and drained of their blood. He hoped like hell that it was the missing hostile doing the killing and not some new threat sneaking around killing only Initiative members. He looked up at the lightening sky and wondered again what to tell his boss.

To say she was not happy would have been a colossal understatement. She was incoherent with rage. Most of the lab techs and soldiers not specifically assigned guard duty cleared out of the immediate area, leaving Riley to bear the brunt of her dissatisfaction.

**Summers house, Monday morning…**

Joyce tightened the belt on her robe as she walked down the short hallway to her younger daughter's room. A brief tap on the door was all the warning she gave before turning the doorknob.

"Good morn…ing? Dawn?" She stuttered to a stop when she spied Dawn's rumpled but empty bed. "_Buffy_!"

The fear in her mother's voice was enough to eject Buffy from the pleasant dream she'd had. A glance at the dead silent monitor on her bedside table sent a frisson of foreboding down her spine. "Mom? What's wrong?" She asked as she bolted from her bed and snagged her robe from the foot. Picking up the small white listening device, she joined her mother in the hall.

Joyce headed for the top of the stairs. "Dawn's not in her bed." She glanced at the monitor. "Has Spike been that quiet all night?"

Buffy frowned as she followed the older woman down the stairs and through the short hall to the kitchen. "I guess so. I was asleep."

"She is sooo grounded." Joyce's rant ended in a whisper as they descended the basement stairs and saw Spike and Dawn. The vampire had fallen asleep sitting in the corner with his head on the mattress near Dawn's own dark head. His fingers were still tangled in the sable tresses. Deep-seated survival instincts warned him of the newcomers and he raised his head. Buffy pushed her way past her mother and picked up a stake she'd left next to the bottom step. Spike's golden eyes narrowed on the slayer as he moved to shield the still-sleeping girl from the imagined threat.

That female was back. The small one was in danger. All his instincts demanded that he protect her. He moved swiftly around to crouch between the bed and the threat. The female advanced with her arm raised, a pointy stick in her hand. The demon stiffened and snarled, flashing his fangs.

Joyce put her hand on Buffy's raised arm. "Stop. Look at him. He's protecting her. He thinks you're going to hurt her."

Buffy paused and reassessed Spike's posture. She gasped. "You're right. I've never seen anything like that."

The older woman tugged her elder daughter back and stepped forward, her hand extended, palm up. "Spike." She said gently. "It's ok." Over her shoulder, she glanced at Buffy. "Go get him some blood, please. I won't get too close."

The demon relaxed as the dangerous one left and the other one moved forward. The one whose scent was soothing. He eased out of his defensive stance and moved back to his corner. He put his hand back on the bed and threaded his fingers gently back through Dawn's hair.

Dawn woke up as she felt Spike's fingers running along her scalp. She smiled before opening her eyes but memory flooded back and she sat up with a gasp. Her hair caught painfully in Spike's fingers and the tug brought tears to her eyes. "Ow!"

A low cry of pain erupted from Spike as he clasped his hands around his head. He curled into himself and whimpered at the waves of electricity flooding his brain. Both females watched tensely as he rode out the pain. Finally he looked up, his tear-filled eyes locking on Joyce's gentle hazel gaze.

"_Mom_! I'm sorry. I just wanted to see Spike and I was talking to him and I got tired. Then he made me lay down in his bed and I didn't mean to go to sleep but…" She broke off when she realized her mother's attention was still on the shivering demon in the corner.

"Um, Mom? What's wrong?" Dawn asked nervously.

"He was protecting you. He thought Buffy was going to hurt you and he was protecting you. He's not completely gone. By the way, you are very grounded, young lady. You need to get ready for school." Joyce kept a steady gaze on Spike.

Dawn shoved the blanket down to the foot of the bed and got up. Spike stood and reached out his hand to keep her from leaving. Joyce grasped Dawn's hand and pulled her slowly out of Spike's reach. "Go get ready for school." She repeated. Dawn nodded and escaped. Spike watched her go and moved to follow her, hissing in frustration when his chains reached their limit.

"It's ok, Spike. She can come back later." She put a gentle hand on his arm and guided him back to the cot. She gently pushed him into a sitting position while she sat in the chair.

Buffy came down the stairs carrying several bags of heated blood. "_Mom_! Get away from him." The slayer warned. Spike turned surly eyes to her and snarled again.

"Oh, please. Like he can hurt any of us. Hand me the blood and go get ready for school. Isn't Monday your early class?" Joyce held her hand out, demanding her daughter do as she ordered.

"But Mom, he's dangerous." Buffy tried again.

"No, he isn't and you know it. Shame on you. He's defenseless against us and you can't seem to get past the fact that he's a vampire. Now, give me his blood and go back upstairs. Call Mr. Giles and tell him what happened." Joyce accepted the bags her daughter grudgingly held out.

"Well, I _am_ a _vampire_ slayer." Buffy grumbled.

"Not _this_ vampire." Joyce glared at her eldest daughter. She turned back to the growling demon next to her and made a soft shushing noise in an attempt to calm him. Without looking at Buffy again, she repeated her request for the Watcher to be called. With a huff of annoyance, the Slayer whirled on her heel and stormed back up the stairs.

"Shhhh, it's ok. Here, drink this." Joyce murmured soothingly as she held out the first bag.

He cautiously took it, holding it up to his nose and sniffing it. A fang nicked a tiny hole in the plastic and he sipped the nourishment experimentally. Satisfied it wasn't _wrong_, he plunged both fangs in and drank it quickly. He kept his golden eyes trained on Joyce as he drained the bag. He dropped the empty and glanced hopefully at the remaining bags on her lap.

She followed his gaze and smiled slightly. She held up another bag. His eyes followed it hungrily. "Is this what you want?" His gaze flashed up to her face as she spoke. "You need to say something. Then I'll give it to you."

The demon struggled to process her soft words, a low snarl of frustration erupting when understanding occurred. He shot an accusing glare at her.

Joyce never knew a demon's eyes could be so expressive. Pain, terror and sorrow shone brightly in the golden depths. Her tender heart broke as she realized the extent of his torment. Tears rose to glaze her hazel eyes.

Spike began to pant harshly and unnecessarily. He withdrew from her and huddled next to the wall as far away as he could get and still be on the bed. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them defensively. Memories assaulted his fractured mind and he shook uncontrollably.

'She wants me to talk.' He thought in shock then quailed in fear when he realized he'd actually thought a complete sentence. A ghost of the punishment that had been given out when he'd looked as if he'd been thinking drifted across his skin and caused him to tremble even more violently. A whimper of pure panic broke free and Joyce's tears spilled at the sound.

Unknowingly, she repeated Rupert's frustrated question from the night before. "_What did they do to you_?"

The smell of her tears wafted through his defenses and he raised his head cautiously. A little of his fear melted away at her obvious distress. With considerable effort, he stilled some of his tremors. He searched for a word. Something, anything that would halt the salty wetness falling from her eyes. He tried to remember the feeling he'd gotten before when he'd seen her, the word that had sent him cowering in the corner with barely understood emotions. **_Home_**. That was it. Now if he could just remember how to say it. He hadn't spoken actual words in _so long_. He could hardly remember how to make the sound in his throat. He opened his mouth to try. The whisper was barely audible and he shrank back as soon as it escaped his lips. He waited tensely for his punishment.

"_Home_."

_**TBC**_


	7. Demon's Tears

Demon's Tears

Disclaimer: Y'all know the drill, own nothing, making no money from it.

Summary: It's Xander's turn to spend time in the basement.

Reviews: Yes please. The response to this fic is amazing, thank you. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Finally got this done. For those of you who missed the explainys in chapter seven of Resurrected, shame on you. Just kidding. Seriously, the muse got hijacked for a contest/challenge at Marsters-Mobsters dot com, which due to contest rules will not be posted anywhere until after Thanksgiving. All you incredible writers should go check it out there's still time to get a fic in. Then the computer went on strike (fried the power cord), and if that wasn't enough, went to write this chapter and Resurrected chapter eight appeared despite my best efforts. Anyway, I know it's short but it just ended here and I let it. Not gonna make any promises on what's coming next cause those never get kept anyway.

WayWard Childe: Hope you're feeling better, Luv. Miss you. Smooches and snuggles to you.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"_Home_." The whisper seemed to echo in the spacious basement. Joyce's hazel eyes widened in amazement. 'He spoke.' She thought. 'Oh, thank _God_.'

"Spike! That's _great_. I'm so proud of you." She purposely kept her voice soft and soothing. She put the rest of the blood at the foot of the bed within easy reach but he ignored it. He ignored her.

Spike was beyond listening to her soft encouragement.

_It was normal procedure for his tormentor to use soft words and pets to lull him into a sense of security. At first he'd fallen for the trick and spoke to her but the punishment he'd earned had quickly taught him to ignore quiet words and gentle touches, they weren't real. But his hopeful nature had insured that he'd fallen for the trick several more times. The very last time he'd spoken had been after she had coaxed him with a gentle tone and soft words. She'd told him that it was all right, that nothing would happen if he'd talk to her. He'd asked quietly if he could please go, for her to just dust him and put him out of his pain. He'd gotten out a hiccupping plea for death which had caused her eyes to gleam in triumph just before she'd touched the end of the stun gun to his stomach. It had paralyzed him and the next time he was aware of anything, he was once more strapped to the cold examination table. He hadn't been allowed clothes since immediately after his capture so he was used to being vulnerable in that respect. The 'training session' that had followed his pleas had been the most painful he'd endured since he'd been there. He hadn't spoken a word since that day. That had been two months into his captivity. Two months that had passed in a blur of excruciating physical and mental torment. The training sessions after that were reserved for when she claimed that he was thinking. The last time he'd had an independent thought without pain had been less than two weeks after he'd spoken his last word. _

Joyce was so excited about his 'breakthrough' that she not aware of his complete withdrawal. She didn't know that her praise had sent him into a flashback. She stood up to go back upstairs, mistaking his stillness for calm; she gently ran her fingers through his tousled hair. She made sure the monitor was switched back on before she went upstairs.

As soon as he sensed she was gone, he shifted. Moving slowly, carefully, as if in great pain, the demon shuffled across the bed. He scuttled cautiously to the head of the bed, trying to be as silent as possible. With a last frightened glance up the stairs, knowing someone would be down soon to punish him for speaking, he crawled into his corner and folded himself into as small a space as he could. He covered his head with his arms, closed his eyes and waited in trembling terror for the agony to begin.

**Upstairs…**

Buffy and Dawn were finishing their bowls of cereal when Joyce returned. "Mom, are you all right?" Buffy asked, visually scanning the older woman for injuries.

"I'm fine, Buffy." Joyce told her with a bit of exasperation in her tone. A knock sounded on the back door. Dawn hopped over to answer it.

"Hey, Xander!" She beamed as he walked in. Joyce gave a slight gasp at the young man's appearance. His face was drawn and pale with dark circles under his whiskey brown eyes.

"Xander? Are you all right?" She asked in concern.

He nodded his shaggy head. "Just a little tired." He made his way to the coffee pot and helped himself.

"We're out of here, Mom." Buffy stated as she and Dawn got ready to leave for school.

"Ok, Honey. Have a good day. Remember, you have vamp-sitting afterwards so don't go anywhere." Joyce told her eldest daughter. She turned to Dawn. "And don't forget, young lady, that you are grounded so you come straight home after school too."

"Yes, Mom." They chorused. It was much quieter after they were gone.

"I thought it was Willow's turn today?" Joyce got out the cream and sugar and set them on the table.

Xander nodded, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "It was but Giles forgot she has an early psych class today. Same one Buffy has. I'd be a liability at work so I called in. I told them I had a family emergency that would take a week to resolve." It would give him a week in which he wouldn't make any money and his moving-out fund would suffer severely but he didn't want his current lack of sleep to cause any serious problems. He liked his new construction job and was good at it. He was just happy he had an understanding boss who'd accepted his reasons for being gone. Xander had explained that the family problem was affecting his sleep and his boss had realized the potential hazard immediately. The male Scooby had been assured that his job would be waiting when the crisis was resolved.

The older woman nodded. "Would you like some breakfast?"

Xander shook his head, looking slightly green at the thought. "I appreciate the offer but I don't think I can. Had a _really_ bad night." He sipped his hot coffee and closed his eyes for long minutes. "Has Spike been fed yet?"

Joyce smiled. "Yes, he has. Oh, Xander. He spoke!" She described the events of the morning. "He said '_Home'_. Do you think he feels at home here?"

The male Scooby considered the question. "It could be that. It could be the vibe you give out. We all feel at home here. Some of us more than others." He ducked his head as he realized what he'd revealed. "I think I'll go make sure he finished his breakfast and settles down for the day."

He stood up and headed for the basement. "Gonna just go down and uphold our end of the agreement."

He made sure he stomped a little as he descended the stairs. The last thing he wanted to do was startle the feral vamp. The first thing he noticed was the huddled ball of shivering vampire in the corner. "Oh, crap." He muttered.

The demon heard the human coming down the stairs and tried to brace himself for the punishment he was sure he'd earned. He consciously stopped breathing and tried to cease the shaking that was making his chains rattle. If he could keep attention off of himself then maybe his mistake would be overlooked. He waited tensely for the first flash of pain. The first one was always the worst because after that one, he had something to focus on. The seconds ticked by and the expected lash didn't land. Despite his resolve to remain unobtrusive, he began to pant as panic built in his chest. Why didn't it start? Why was he waiting?

Xander sank down onto the bottom step and buried his face in his hands. "I have _not_ had enough sleep for this." He moaned.

The demon's head snapped up at the sound of the human's voice so far away. He tilted his head curiously at the sight of the man sitting on the steps. Wasn't he there to punish him? There was nothing in the human's hands. Had the comforting lady called _that_ _place_? Were they coming to take him back because he'd been bad and had spoken? He began to shake again as dread flooded his entire being. That had to be it. The man was there to make sure he behaved until _those_ _people_ came for him. An involuntary whimper escaped and he cringed, knowing for sure that the punishment would start soon. Fearful golden eyes zeroed in on the dark haired man sitting on the step.

Xander looked over at Spike when he heard the whimper. He could see the frightened golden gaze peeking out over the black denim covered knees. A distracted portion of his mind noticed how threadbare the denim was. "Oh, God. Spike, don't look at me like that. I'm not gonna hurt you. Although a jury wouldn't convict me after what you did, it just wouldn't be right." Unable to look at the shaking figure any longer, he moved his gaze to the bed. Noticing the small pile of bags, he gently chastised the vampire. "You didn't finish your breakfast. It's probably cold by now. I'm not going to reheat it for you, pal. My kindness only goes so far."

He got up and slowly walked over to the cot. He winced when the shaking increased and the chains began to clank loudly. Carefully, Xander picked up one of the blood bags. He knew that this would be a test of trust. Spike needed to begin to trust them or he would never get better. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that Mrs. Summers had said or done something that mirrored a tactic of Spike's captors. By enticing him into speaking, she'd inadvertently sent him into a full-scale panic attack. The golden eyes followed his every move.

The demon's stomach clenched when he realized the man was going to take his blood away. His heart dropped in disappointment. So that was the punishment, starvation. He'd almost prefer the physical pain. He watched warily as the human walked along the bed and stopped in front of him. The demon dropped his gaze, not wanting to be accused of presuming to stare. He'd gotten more than one round of torture because he'd met the gaze of a human. He flinched when the man crouched down.

Xander's hand shook when he saw the Big Bad flinch away from him. It wasn't right. Xander hated all vampires and Angel in particular. Spike had kidnapped and terrorized both him and Willow but he hadn't really hurt them. Xander had suffered a mild concussion and Cordy had gotten injured when she and Oz had arrived to rescue them. Before that, Xander had developed a grudging respect for the blond menace when he'd teamed up with Buffy to defeat Angel and save the world. When it was all said and done, Xander had some serious issues with vampires and with Angel's vampire family in particular. He took a deep breath as his runaway thoughts threatened to overwhelm him. He didn't _want_ to feel sympathy for the trembling being in front of him but he did. And that was why he held out the bag of blood to the starving creature huddled in the corner.

The golden eyes widened in surprise when the blood appeared in front of him. Reluctantly, his gaze moved from the bag, past the slightly shaking hand and up the arm to the determined face of the man holding it.

Xander didn't blink when the intent gaze of the demon met his own whiskey colored eyes. He didn't know what Spike was looking for but he was determined to show no fear or threat. He kept his face and eyes still and calm while the demon stared at him. Finally, a pale slender hand reached out and snatched the bag almost faster than the eye could see. Xander moved back a half a step as he watched Spike huddle over his prize and turn partially away. He watched as the too-thin vampire sniffed the bag suspiciously before using one fang to make a tiny hole to test it. A low grumble sounded when the blood was judged to be acceptable and the bag was swiftly drained. A breath Xander hadn't realized he was holding whooshed out. Still moving deliberately to keep from startling the vampire, the human reached over and picked up the remaining bags of blood. His knees protested when he stood, so Xander moved away to pull the chair over. A low keening sounded from the corner.

The demon couldn't help it. The human had given him only a little of the _not_ _wrong_ blood and then had taken the rest of them away. He was still _so_ _hungry_. He let his distress out the only way he knew, by sound.

Xander whipped around at the sound. A couple bags slipped from his fingers but he didn't notice in his shock at hearing the noise Spike was making. The male Scooby had known that Spike was an emotional creature. He'd heard the blond vampire crying and moaning about Drusilla leaving him for another demon. At the time, Xander had put the histrionics down to the extreme drunken state Spike had been in. Now, though, the utter desolation on the thin face was more than Xander could stand. The human tracked the direction of the demon's gaze and saw that he was looking at the blood. Understanding dawned; Spike thought he was taking the blood away.

"No! Oh, God, no. Spike, I'm not taking it away! I'm just moving the chair over so I can sit down." Quickly he pulled the chair over and sat in it. He scooped up the fallen bags and held one out to Spike. The hope that bloomed in the golden depths nearly tore Xander's heart in two.

"Oh, God. I can't do this. Here." He stood and shoved the remaining bags onto the head of the bed within easy reach of the demon. Startled by the swift movements, the demon could do nothing but watch as Xander fled up the stairs. Something made him stop just as he reached the middle of the staircase. He looked over the railing. Spike had risen from the corner and was quickly gathering the blood bags. He cradled them against his chest and eased back down in his corner. When he realized that Xander was watching, he stilled his movements and looked up, meeting the man's gaze.

The demon couldn't believe the human was leaving the blood. He hadn't been punished! He'd been fed and the rest had been left for him. He sat back down with the precious items and paused when he felt the human watching him. The relief that had washed over him spilled out onto his face, the physical evidence of the overwhelming emotion trailing down over sharp cheekbones and dripping off his jaw.

The light glinted off the tears rolling down Spike's face. Xander stared in horror at the sight before whirling around and racing up the rest of the stairs, slamming the door as he tore through it. He sped through the kitchen, surprising Joyce and Giles who'd arrived while the younger man had been in the basement, and out the back door. He made it to the edge of the yard before he bent over and threw up the little bit of coffee he'd managed to drink.

Joyce started to rise and go after him but Giles placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Let me." She nodded and settled back into her chair, remembering at last to pull the receiver out of her pocket and turn it one. There was a soft snuffling noise she couldn't place but could hear nothing that would have caused Xander's flight.

Xander wiped his face with the handkerchief that had appeared from nowhere. He moved several feet to the side and sat on the fading grass of the lawn. Giles crouched next to him and removed his glasses. The older man simply waited until the male Scooby composed himself enough to explain.

"It's _wrong_. He's a vampire. I _hate_ vampires. He thought I was there to hurt him or take his blood away. He's not supposed to be scared of _me_. And he sure as _fucking_ _hell_ is not supposed to be relieved when I _leave_." Xander's breath was ragged as he struggled with his emotions. Giles hid his surprise at the content of Xander's rant. The significance of what the younger man was saying made him feel vaguely ill although he should have expected it after his conference with Drusilla. He kept silent, somehow knowing that Xander wasn't finished. Even so, the next outburst shocked the Watcher. "_God_ **_damn_** _it_! Vampires are _not_ supposed to **_cry_**!"

_**TBC**_


	8. Demon Hunting

Demon Hunting

Disclaimer: If I owned them I'd be living by myself!

Summary: Revelations and Dru goes hunting.

Reviews: Yes, please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Sorry this took so long but RL has been beyond frustrating. Will try to update 'Resurrected' next. Let's all hope there is a speedy end to the stresses interrupting the Squirl's creative efforts.

WayWard Childe: You let me rant and cry, thanks for the cyber shoulder. I would have gone postal long before now.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoox

Giles awkwardly patted Xander on the shoulder. The younger man's solid frame tensed under the tentative touch. "Xander, what happened?"

The shaggy haired Scooby inhaled shakily but when he looked up, his eyes were dry. Fury burned in the whiskey-hued depths. "Something Mrs. S said or did sent Spike into a panic attack. He thought I was there to punish him. He didn't say it but it was pretty clear from the way he was shaking in that corner. He looked at me and his terror was almost tangible. And listen to me; guess I'm spending too much time with you when I know words like that."

Giles allowed a tiny smile at the attempt. He'd been waiting for the joke that inevitably slipped out to ease tensions. He watched as Xander sat on the grass Indian style and bent his head. In low steady tones laced with impotent rage, he told the Watcher what had transpired in the basement. When he finished the short dissertation, he just sat there idly twisting the square of white linen in his large calloused hands.

Finally, Giles cleared his throat and gazed blindly at a tree at the other side of the yard. "They tortured him if he spoke." The statement was nearly inaudible.

Xander looked up, shocked. "But _why_? I mean, talking is his thing, he can't _not_ talk. When he kidnapped me and Willow, all I wanted him to do was stop talking but not like this. I'm so confused." He moaned. "I have _not_ had enough sleep for this." He repeated his earlier lament.

"I didn't hear him talk that much when I was Angelus' 'guest'." Giles admitted. "He was very angry a good deal of the time." He looked down at the glasses dangling from his fingers. "He stopped Angelus from killing me. Just before you came in, Angelus was going to use a chainsaw on me to get the information he wanted. Spike stopped him."

Xander took a deep breath. "I didn't know."

"I realize that. I find it difficult to talk about that time. Drusilla used her thrall to convince me that she was Jenny and seduced me into telling her what they needed to know." Giles continued softly.

Dark eyes widened. "She _seduced_ you?" Shock colored each word.

"Not completely, it was more of a seduction of my emotions than my body." Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Afterwards, Spike sat there in his chair, watching me. I don't know what he was thinking but the expression on his face and in his eyes…. She hurt him so badly by choosing Angelus over him. He loved her so much, I could see it. He risked a lot by betraying Angelus. He saved my life."

"And now you're trying to pay him back." Xander realized.

"Yes." The admission was very, very quiet. There was a long pause. "There's more."

Xander gave a short bark of unamused laughter. "There always is."

An ironic smiled flitted across Rupert's handsome face. "Yes, indeed." He reached into his pocket for the handkerchief he no longer had. After a minute, he remembered and stopped. "Drusilla's here. She's come to help Spike."

"Keep her away from me." Xander shuddered, remembering the time she'd almost bitten him.

Giles chuckled. "She told me about her attempt to turn you during that ill-advised Valentine's Day spell. The ritual that Spike performed to restore her worked much differently than they first imagined. Over the past couple of years, she has regained much of her sanity. She's still clairvoyant but she is much more coherent. I don't know if they were aware that would happen but she is different than she was. I don't think she'll ever be completely sane but her mental capacity is vastly improved. She has promised not to touch anyone who has been helping Spike. She's the one killing the soldiers."

"Good for her." Xander's voice was low and vicious.

"Xander." The older man's tone was reproving. "She's killing humans."

"I'm inclined to agree with Mrs. S. What those people are doing is inhuman and I don't feel sorry for any of them that Drusilla catches up with." The brunette stood up, stuffing the twisted handkerchief into his pocket. "When is she coming over to see Spike?"

"She's sleeping at my house right now but I believe she plans on being here at sunset." Giles told him as they began slowly walking back to the house.

Xander nodded thoughtfully. "Buffy and Dawn shouldn't be here when she gets here. I'm not real thrilled about Mrs. Summers being here either but I don't think she'd be willing to leave. Wait a minute." He stopped suddenly as something Giles said sank in. "She's at your _house_? Are you _nuts_?"

"I may very well be but she told me some things that made me reconsider turning her away." The Watcher replied wryly.

The younger man shivered. "And a cold chill just went down my back. Something tells me I'm not gonna like any of it."

Giles shook his head. "No, you're not. Come on back in so I can tell you and Joyce at the same time. I don't think I can repeat this more than once." He held the back door open, letting Xander precede him into the house. As quickly and as emotionlessly as possible he repeated some of what the vampire had told him the night before. She had asked him to keep the details to himself. "Drusilla knows what happened to Spike but she has to get him to _tell_ her. That's the only way to get him back. As his Sire, she has control over his demon and that is how she's going to get through to him."

Joyce bent her head, tears slipping down her face. "I didn't know. I thought I was helping."

"Of course not. How could you? It says something that he _did_ speak to you. Knowing what the consequences could be, he still spoke to you." Giles covered her trembling hands with one of his own.

Xander glanced at the monitor. He hadn't heard very much noise from the basement since he'd returned to the house. "I think I should go check on him." He stated quietly, more to give Joyce time to compose herself than from any desire to see the vampire again.

**In the basement…**

Xander paused halfway down the stairs to give the demon a chance to become aware of his presence. He needn't have worried. Spike had fallen asleep huddled in the corner; his vampiric instincts had kicked in and putting him to sleep for the day. He'd finished the remaining blood and the bags littered the floor in a small circle around his bare feet.

With a stealth that would have surprised his friends, Xander glided across the cement floor. He eased into the chair that he'd left near the vampire's hidey corner. He watched Spike sleep for several minutes. The platinum tipped head was leaning against the wall, dark lashes fanned across lean cheeks. The human noticed distantly that Spike appeared to have recovered some of his weight but was nowhere near back to his normal size. Xander saw with a start of surprise that the vampire was breathing in his sleep. A shiver wracked the thin frame and with a pang, Xander realized that he was cold. Quietly, he stood and picked up the blanket from the cot. He let it drift down to cover the shaking body.

Frowning from the conflicting sentiments deep in his chest, Xander silently walked back to the staircase. He took another last look at the slumbering vampire before slowly and thoughtfully ascending the stairs.

**Sunnydale College campus, psychology class…**

Willow bumped into Buffy as she leaned down to grab her book bag and grinned when the Slayer jumped in surprise. She'd been deep in thought while she stared glassy-eyed at the Teacher's Assistant, Riley Finn. The redhead leaned over and spoke directly into her best friend's ear.

"Wasn't it nice of him to give us everything we need for the next test?" Willow commented slyly. "I would have hated to have been daydreaming and missed it."

Buffy grimaced at the other girl. "Just tell me you took good notes." She groaned.

"Not to worry, every word dutifully noted in my trusty note book." Willow nodded decisively. "I wonder why Professor Walsh wasn't here today." She mused as they began gathering their gear.

"She had a few personal things she had to take care of." Riley answered, walking up to the two girls. "Sorry, couldn't help overhearing." He smiled shyly.

Buffy gazed up at him with wide green eyes. "Hi."

Willow grinned, amused at her friend's sudden lack of social skills. "Hey, Riley."

Riley shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Look, Buffy. I was wondering if maybe you could… What I wanted to know was if you…. Well, there's this great coffee place just off campus and I wondered if you wanted to go there after your last class?" He finally managed to stumble through the question.

Buffy's face lit up. "I'd love to." She gushed, then her expression fell. "But I can't. I have to go home and watch the… um… neighbor's kid, yeah, that's it. I have to baby-sit." She frowned at the injustice of her life.

Riley frowned with puzzlement over her disjointed sentence. He winced as he remembered that Professor Walsh wanted him to go over the surveillance tape of the Hostile's lair. "That's okay, I need to do some work for the professor for tomorrow's classes. I'd forgotten. Can I get a rain-check?" He gazed at her with hopeful hazel eyes. "How about tomorrow after classes?"

Buffy chewed her lower lip in frustration. "I can't. I don't know how long I'm gonna have to va – ah - baby-sit."

Willow's expression was sympathetic. She knew how hard it was to have Spike ensconced in the basement. She'd been grateful to Xander for taking her shift when they'd realized that Giles had forgotten her class schedule.

"Um, Buffy? We're gonna be late for our next class. We need to go." Willow gently reminded her friend who was too busy staring at her crush to notice the time passing. Riley and Buffy both shook themselves out of the haze they'd fallen into.

Buffy visibly started and picked up her bag from where she'd dropped it. Riley grinned sheepishly and nodded. "See you in class tomorrow?"

Both girls nodded. "Yup, bright and early." Willow chirped.

He gazed at the floor. "Well, then." He stopped.

Buffy hefted her bag. "Yeah, well." She countered.

Willow looked at both of them and beamed. "I'll meet you in the hall, Buff." She said astutely.

Riley looked around the empty classroom and then back at the redhead. He leaned over quickly and pressed a swift kiss on her cheek. "Thanks." He murmured.

Willow blushed as she hurried out of the room.

Buffy's big green eyes fixed on Riley's boyish face. "Thought she'd never leave." She breathed.

"Me, too." Riley answered. He leaned down as she raised her face and their lips met for a passionate kiss.

They were breathless when they broke apart but they smiled at each other goofily. "Tomorrow then." Riley confirmed.

Buffy nodded and waved as she left to meet Willow in the hall.

**Later, Summers house…**

The demon woke to the realization that someone had put a blanket over his perpetually cold body. The soft warmth of the blanket was a luxury he'd been conditioned to believe he didn't deserve. He looked around and yawned, the terror from earlier still dragged at his limbs as he rose cautiously from his corner. The lure of his cot was more than he could resist and he wrapped his blanket around his thin frame before lying down. With a tiny sigh of contentment, he allowed himself to drift back into sleep feeling safe for the first time in many months.

**Sunset….**

Drusilla rose from where she'd been deeply sleeping in Rupert's spare bedroom. She noticed with a small smile that the Watcher had pulled the drapes closed against the sun. She knew that it would have been very easy for him to give in to his hatred and leave them open to dust her. He had told her he would buy some bagged animal blood and for her to help herself. She'd laughed at his presumption that she would tamely exist on animal blood like her Sire. Angel was burdened with a soul that tormented him if he fed on humans, Dru had no such hindrance. She had soldiers to hunt. She left the apartment and paused. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift for a few minutes. A smile flitted across her lovely face. Her childe was safe, warm and well fed. She would be with him soon and would recover her sweet William's shattered mind. But first there were humans who needed to pay for their transgressions against her childe.

Drusilla had been watching the Initiative soldiers for more than a few days. She had been waiting for the opportunity to attempt a rescue of her William but had been pleasantly surprised when he'd escaped on his own. She'd known it was prearranged and had not been in the least surprised when the soldiers began following her childe as he attempted to feed himself.

She'd been beyond angry as she watched Spike get hungrier and weaker. Her dark knight had been a powerful vampire and these _humans_ had tortured and starved him. They would pay.

Drusilla glided through the shadows lining the street down from the Watcher's apartment. She ignored the humans who were foolish enough to be out after dark in a town where mysterious deaths were a common occurrence. She quickly found the cemetery where the soldiers were once more hunting for her childe. They were again in teams of two. She smirked at their blithe assumption that their way was still best and they were safe. Waiting patiently was something that she had worked hard on and the benefits were paying off. Gliding along the edge of the forest that surrounding the cemetery, she smiled in malicious glee when one of the abhorrent humans wandered away from his partner and ended up within a few feet of the waiting vampire.

Mike Caden was only 20 and had been in the Army 2 years. He'd been shocked when he'd been chosen for this special team. He'd grown up in Missouri where the only demon he'd known was his uncle's old stubborn mule. He snickered occasionally at the unintended pun but the truth was sometimes stranger than state reputations. There were days that he still couldn't believe he was living in California, the Sunshine State, and spent his night hunting _vampires_. He'd seen more atrocities in the last ten months than he'd seen his entire life. What the Professor and Special Agent Finn had done to that blond vampire had caused him to investigate ways to transfer out of the Initiative. To his horror, he'd been told that transfer was impossible. He wasn't as committed to the cause as the others were. A tiny, hidden part of him had cheered when the vampire escaped.

Mike stopped at the edge of the treed portion of the old cemetery. He thought he'd seen a shadow move but didn't want to get any closer to investigate. He'd seen the drained corpses of the others. He didn't want to die that way. That was one reason he'd broken regulations and contacted his retired uncle for help in getting reassigned. While his grand-uncles who'd held high rank in all four branches of the service had died, his Uncle George still had contacts in the highest offices of the personnel branch. Mike gulped and held his rifle tighter. He knew the weapon was useless against vampires and was increasingly frustrated that they were issued daily. He raised a hand and wiped sweat from his brow, dislodging the fringe of sandy hair that fell over his forehead. His blue/gray eyes swept nervously back and forth seeking the source of the movement he'd seen.

A soft rustle sounded off to Mike's right, he spun in that direction and found his gaze caught by a pair of icy blue eyes. He gasped and _knew_ that death was standing in before him. The beautiful woman standing in front of him was pale as a corpse and somehow Mike knew that this was a vampire. A cold sweat broke out over his slender body. He nearly stopped breathing in his silent panic. Something about her eyes kept him captive and unable to speak. He shivered as she approached him and leaned into his neck. He closed his eyes and waited for the bite that would drain his life. A small spark in him hoped she wouldn't turn him because he would rather die than be captured by his co-workers and suffer the same torture they'd dished out to the blond vampire.

_**TBC**_


	9. Demon's Anger

Demon's Anger

Disclaimer: Don't own them, wish I did.

Summary: What is that the makes the demon so very angry? Did Dru kill Mike?

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter took sooo long to write. 'Resurrected' just kind of took over the muse and RL interfered a _lot_. But now, as promised in the last chapter of 'Resurrected', here is the new chapter of this bit of insanity. I hope you guys are still interested. Please enjoy and don't forget to review! Thanks.

WayWard Childe: Dude! I miss you! Sorry I couldn't wait for you to proof this before I posted but I needed to get it up before I went to fetch the troll. Long story, get with me later for details.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Dawn arrived home after school, tumbling in through the back door and clamoring to be allowed another visit to Spike. Her whining woke Xander who'd been attempting to gain some rest on the sofa in the living room. Buffy and Willow added to the noise shortly after, coming in through the front door with high pitched giggles and he gave up with a groan. He glared after them as they trooped into the kitchen for refreshments.

Giles glanced up at the girls with a scowl as they chattered together. He'd spent the day soothing Joyce over the inadvertent setback she'd caused Spike and had run several errands including one to the butcher for more blood for the vampire. Knowing Joyce couldn't afford to continue feeding the entire group, he'd made a trip to the grocery store while he was out.

"All right! I'm up already!" The brunet complained.

Joyce heard him and frowned at the girls. "You woke Xander up?"

Buffy turned to gaze back toward the living room in surprise. "He's still here?"

Giles snorted. "Buffy, you _must_ work on your observation skills. You really need to be more aware of your surroundings.

The slayer pouted. "But I'm at home. Can't I relax anywhere?"

Her Watcher frowned. "No. You have to be especially vigilant in familiar surroundings."

Buffy shrugged and got a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "How's the basement dweller?" She gestured toward the monitor with her water bottle before uncapping it and taking a long swallow. The demon seemed to be silent.

"Still asleep." Giles answered. "He had a rather traumatic morning and he's been sleeping since."

"What happened?" Willow wanted to know, blue eyes huge with worry. She quickly scanned everyone to make sure the vampire hadn't harmed any of them.

"I scared him." Xander said as he scrubbed the sleep from his face with his hands. He wandered toward the refrigerator and removed a soda. He popped the top on the cold can and tipped it up for a long swallow. He grimaced as the chilled beverage coursed down his throat.

"_How_?" Dawn demanded.

"It doesn't matter." Joyce told her. "It's over." She steered her youngest child to the refrigerator and murmured to her that they needed to start dinner. Together they began inventorying the supplies that Giles had provided.

**Downstairs….**

The demon stretched on his narrow cot and sat up slowly. He couldn't believe that he'd slept so long and so deeply. It frightened him a little to know how comfortable he was beginning to feel in this place even with the dangerous female who lived there. It was the other one who made him feel so safe. He realized how very dangerous it was to let himself forget that they were _human_ and therefore could not be trusted. All he could remember of humans was that they caused _pain_.

He snarled and got up to crouch against the wall. He tugged the chains sharply, suddenly resentful that he was confined and still at the mercy of _humans_. Sudden hunger bit into his midsection and he growled his frustration at being unable to fend for himself. He _needed_ to hunt and to feed. He _craved_ the feeling of hot fluid running down his throat. Fury had him upright and prowling along the wall, chains rattling as he futilely sought his freedom.

**Upstairs…..**

Xander drained his can and crushed it between strong fingers. He dropped it into the recycle bin just as the demon beneath their feet began his restless movements. "Well, sounds like the resident vampire is awake and prowling." He commented, directing everyone's attention to the small white monitor on the counter. The clanking of the chains as well as the demon's frustrated snarling and growling could be clearly heard through the tiny speaker.

Joyce began pulling bags of blood from the refrigerator she already had open. She held them out for one of the teenagers to take. Willow rushed forward when it seemed that Buffy was going to ignore the blatant hint. The redhead carried the small pile of bags over to the microwave and began heating the nourishment for the vampire. Soon she had the warmed blood bags on a tray ready to carry downstairs.

Willow gazed at the others in the room. Xander was intently studying the floor, in no hurry to face the demon he'd frightened so badly earlier in the day. Buffy was leaning against a counter with a rebellious look on her face.

"He tried to attack me." She pouted. "I don't want to go down there."

Dawn snorted. "What a baby." She chided. "I'll do it."

"**_No_**!" Joyce and Giles voiced their objections simultaneously.

The youngest teen crossed her arms over her skinny chest. "Why not?" She demanded, her lower lip poked out mutinously.

"Because he sounds kinda pissed off. Why don't you wait to see if he's in a better mood after he eats?" Xander told her gently.

"Oh, I'll do it." Willow headed for the basement door. "I haven't been doing my share of vamp-sitting anyway." She went downstairs.

In the basement, the demon paused as he heard the door open and footsteps begin descending down the stairs. He crouched against the wall and waited. His emaciated body tense with anticipation. Of what, he didn't know.

"Hey, Spike." Willow greeted him as soothingly as she knew how. "I brought your dinner. Or would that be breakfast considering you sleep all day and your first meal would be when you get up and for us that would be our breakfast. So do you call it your breakfast or your dinner?"

The demon tilted his head at her nervous babble. The only other human to say so many things to him at once had been the young one. The one who shone with the shiny green light. He wanted her to come back. This one made him nervous. He stopped to consider that for a moment. It wasn't the same nervousness as the dangerous one. It was different. He inhaled, trying to catch her scent. There was a word for the tingle her scent generated in his spine. He just couldn't figure out what the word was. He prowled to the edge of the cot as she approached. There was another smell mingled with the spicy scent that was her own. He growled. He _knew_ that scent. His fangs flashed in the bright light of the basement as rage lashed through his body.

Willow began to tremble in the face of the vampire's wrath. She shakily deposited the tray of blood on the chair next to the bed. She straightened, nervously watching him. He jumped lightly onto the floor right in front of her and leaned in for a sniff. She gave a muffled squeak as his golden eyes flashed with anger. Quicker than lightening, he lunged for her throat. She scrambled backwards away from him as he collapsed onto the floor in agony, clutching his head in his hands.

As soon as Willow's squeak sounded over the speaker, Buffy headed for the basement. The others followed as soon as they recovered from their shock. The slayer fairly flew down the stairs. The demon rose from his crouch as soon as the distinctive smell of one of _those_ _people _assaulted his nose. He shook from the aftershocks of his attempt to bite the girl. He charged at the dangerous one, growling as she and the others backed out of range of his chains.

Giles shoved Joyce and Dawn into a remote corner of the basement. "Stay here until we get him under control." He instructed tersely. He turned to watch the scene unfolding in the spacious basement. Spike was straining the length of his chains, trying to reach Buffy and Willow as they stood in front of him. The slayer had pushed the redhead behind her and was facing off with the snarling demon.

Xander had grabbed the tranquilizer gun from the kitchen counter and was standing off to the side with the weapon trained on the raging vampire. "Spike!" Xander ordered. "**_Stop_**!"

The demon turned toward the man's voice. He roared his anger at the scent of one of those people being so close to him. He just wanted to rip and maim the source of the offensive odor.

Xander took a deep breath to calm his shaking hands. He tried to steady his aim. "Back off, Spike. I don't want to shoot you. You need to trust us. We only want to help."

The demon snarled at the man's reasonable tone of voice. He was frustrated. He needed to get to the source of that smell. He turned back to the dangerous human female. She reeked of that _smell_. The scent of one of **_those_** **_people_** wafted toward him from both females and it enraged him. He strained against the length of the chains in a renewed attempt to reach them and rip them limb from limb. Terror fueled his anger. Fear that they were working with **_those_** **_people_** to send him back to **_that_** **_place_** sent him into a frenzy and he fought his bonds to stop them.

Xander closed his eyes briefly and took another deep breath. He focused on the raging demon and squeezed the trigger of the tranquilizer gun. The dart lodged into Spike's shoulder. He howled in rage and turned his attention toward Xander. The male Scooby took a startled step back as Spike lunged in his direction. Nerves sharpened by fear made him refocus and send another dart flying into the vampire. Spike dropped like a stone, his arms dragged upwards and back by the outstretched chains.

**In the cemetery….**

Drusilla smiled as the soldier stood there, terrified. She sniffed his neck and ran her nose up to his ear. She backed away from the young man and tapped his nose with a long slender finger. "Stay right there, my pretty one. Mummy will be right back." She left him standing speechless in the shadows of the tree and made her way swiftly and silently to his partner several feet away. Seconds later a lifeless body slid to the ground.

She drifted back to the entranced Mike. Her blue gaze scanned the slender form of the motionless man. There was something different about this soldier. She tilted her head and studied him. Large terrified grey-blue eyes were shaded by dark eyebrows and lashes. Sandy hair flopped over a broad, smooth forehead. He was taller than she but only by a couple of inches. Dru raised a graceful hand up and traced Mike's full lower lip with a sharp fingernail, being careful not to cut him. She followed the line of his high cheekbones with the same finger. A tender smile curved her red lips. "You smell so sweet, my Pet." She trailed her hand down his leanly muscled arm and twined her cool fingers with his clammy hand. "Come with Mummy, Precious."

Drusilla led her new pet in the direction of the Slayer's house. Twice she left him in the shadows while she drained four more of his fellow Initiative soldiers. His blank blue-grey gaze followed her every move without seeming to register that people he knew were dying within feet of him.

**Summers' basement…**

Dawn squeaked as Spike hit the floor face down. His arms were tugged up painfully behind him as he fell. Joyce gasped and hugged her youngest daughter tightly. Giles left the two of them in the corner he'd tucked them into and rushed across the floor to assist Xander as the shaggy haired teen tried to ease the lax body into a more comfortable position.

"Ok, get his legs. I've got his arms." Giles knelt at Spike's head and slid careful hands under the bony shoulders. Xander nodded and moved around to grab the motionless legs. With some maneuvering to avoid the chains, they lifted the demon onto the cot and covered him up. As he straightened, Giles removed his glasses and fixed the two girls with a glare. "Upstairs. We need to figure out what it is that is setting him off." In shocked silence they trooped up the stairs. Xander pulled the darts from the vampire's unconscious form and followed the others up to the kitchen.

**Upstairs…**

Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. "Willow, tell me exactly what happened before we came down there."

The redhead twisted her fingers together on the top of the table. Her pretty face was pale as she concentrated on getting every detail right. "Well, I went down there with the blood and he was prowling on the bed. I was just talking to him and he kind of inhaled, like he smelled something. Then he just got mad. He tried to bite me and went down with his head in his hands. I didn't do anything." She protested her innocence.

"Buffy seemed to make him even angrier." The Watcher mused.

"He doesn't react that way with the rest of us." Joyce observed. "Buffy, are you and Willow sharing perfume or anything like that?"

Giles shook his head before either girl could answer the question. "No, his reaction is more violent with Buffy so it is something they have both been in contact with but Buffy more so than Willow."

There was a knock on the front door before anyone could speculate further. Dawn moved toward the living room but Buffy stopped her.

"No, Dawnie. We don't know who's out there." The Slayer cautioned.

"I imagine that it's Drusilla." Giles commented as he walked into the living room. Buffy followed him and grabbed his arm.

"_Drusilla_? Why would Drusilla be here and when were you going to tell me she was coming?" Buffy demanded.

"She's here to help Spike. She knows what happened to him and how to help him recover from the trauma. She is not as she was the last time she was here. The ritual Spike preformed to restore her vampiric health also restored much of her sanity." The Watcher explained patiently. He shrugged his arm out of Buffy's grasp. "I'd planned for you to not be here when she arrived but the additional problem with Spike put that into the background. She's here now and she _is_ going to help. She has promised not to harm any one who has been helping Spike."

Another knock caused the door to shudder in its frame. Giles broke away from his Slayer and grasped the knob. The Scoobies watched in horrified fascination as the door swung open.

While they had been expecting the vampire, the presence of the soldier was a shock. The glazed expression on the young man's face brought a frown to Rupert's own face. "Drusilla." He began mildly. "I see you have a new friend. Would you care to introduce us?"

A complacent smile graced her lovely features. "I've found a new pet. Isn't he precious?" She purred. She turned to the oddly quiescent young man. "Tell them your name, Pretty."

"Private Michael Caden." He announced in a soft southern accent.

Buffy approached the door with a stake in her hand. "What have you done to him?" She demanded.

Drusilla frowned. "I've done nothing to him." She declared imperiously. "I could have consigned him to the same fate as his mates." She smiled viciously.

"What fate would that be?" Buffy asked curiously, dread trickling down her spine.

The vampire continued to smile. "I killed them. Abhorrent creatures. They tortured my sweet William. They suppressed the lovely part of him that made him different. They are dying."

"Holy crap." Dawn breathed. She'd inched closer to the door, insatiably curious about the vampire Spike had told so many stories about.

"What is it, Honey?" Joyce asked gently, moving up to stand behind her youngest.

"Look at him." Dawn pointed at the soldier. "He looks just like Spike."

Drusilla looked at the girl. She could see the greenish glow around the child. She tried to take a step closer to her but the barrier stopped her. Her icy gaze centered back on the Slayer. "Invite me in." She commanded.

Joyce had noticed the attention the vampire had paid to Dawn. She pushed her daughter gently behind her and moved closer to the door. "Do you promise that you will not harm anyone in this house?"

Drusilla regarded Joyce solemnly. She slid her hand down Mike's arm and grasped his slack hand in hers. "I swear an oath on my Sire's blood that no harm will come to any one who has helped or wanted to help my Spike." She raised Mike's fingers to her ruby lips, kissing them gently. "My Pretty One wanted to help. He was not one of the creatures who tormented my Childe. He is safe."

Joyce held Drusilla's gaze for several interminable minutes. Finally she nodded. "Come in, Drusilla." She said formally.

The vampire smiled gently. "Thank you." She stepped over the threshold and pulled Mike in behind her. She led him over to the sofa. "Sit down, Pet." Satisfied that he was comfortable, she turned to observe the other humans in the room. She smiled at Xander who was trying to stay invisible behind Willow. She drifted closer to the young witch and her best friend. As soon as she got close enough, she inhaled sharply. Her beautiful face shifted into her demonic features. With a hiss, she leaned in closer to Willow. Buffy charged forward but was caught up short by Giles.

"Buffy, wait." He cautioned.

Drusilla whipped around to face the Slayer and her Watcher. "This one smells like one of _them_." She spat through her fangs. She stalked towards Buffy. "Explain that to me." She commanded.

"I don't know how. We don't know any one who's a soldier except your friend over there." Buffy raised the stake threateningly.

Dru stopped within a foot of the Slayer and inhaled. A growl erupted from her slender throat. "You smell worse than _she_ does." She indicated Willow with a toss of her head.

The Slayer faced the furious vampire. "I don't know what you're talking about." She turned to her watcher. "Giles, I thought you said she was sane."

Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I said 'saner'. That's not the point. Is there anyone that is not in this house that both you and Willow have had contact with today?"

Willow thought about that for a few precious minutes. Drusilla waited, game-faced and growling. "Oh!" Willow exclaimed. "Riley!"

"What?" Buffy shook her head. "No, Wills. It can't be Riley. He's just a TA. No way is he part of those soldiers."

A flat voice tinged with a southern accent sounded from the sofa, stunning everyone in the room. "Special Agent Riley Finn, supervisor and coordinator of the search for the escaped hostile. He works undercover at the University as a Teacher's Aid."

Dru's face melted back into her human features. She clapped her hands and floated across the floor to sit next to Mike. "That's my lovely Pet. You're such a good boy." She crooned.

Giles replaced his glasses with a sigh of relief. He didn't know how much he could trust Drusilla's oath but it seemed that she took her promises almost as seriously as Spike did. He'd read and observed enough to know that when Spike gave his word, he did everything in his power to keep it.

**In the basement….**

The demon woke with a start. His golden eyes popped wide open and he warily scanned the basement for the humans. He sat up slowly, woozy with hunger and the last of the tranquilizers. The tray of blood bags was still sitting on the chair, forgotten by the humans in the wake of the excitement. He stretched out a shaking hand to take one of the bags. The ritual of sniffing and sampling accomplished, he drained it. He made short work of the remaining bags. He dropped the last bag on the floor as a shiver ran through his thin body. His head rose and he looked up at the ceiling. Someone was here. Someone different. He rubbed his head as pain began sparking from trying to think. A word tugged at his confused mind. An important word. He fought against the training he's undergone to bring it forward. He pulled his legs up and he wrapped his thin arms around them. He shook with the need to say the word. He cast a fearful glance around the basement. He inhaled deeply and the word whispered out on the exhale. He cringed as it seemed to echo in the empty basement.

"_Sire_."

Upstairs, Drusilla stiffened in her seat. Her head rose attentively and her icy blue eyes swung toward the kitchen where the door to the basement was. Ignoring everyone else in the room she stood up. A single word passed her parted lips.

"_Childe_."

_**TBC**_


	10. Demon's Pet?

Demon's Pet?

Disclaimer: I hope to own a ticket to the LA convention but Spike and the rest of the gang still belong to Joss.

Summary: A rant, a meeting and a revelation.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Do y'all realize that this story is ten chapters in and Spike has only said two words? Amazing for such a motor-mouth. Know what? That doesn't change in this chapter. This chapter actually did not come out the way I originally intended but I like the result. It's short and I'm sorry about that but that's where it ended.

Thanks as always to WayWard Childe for his invaluable assistance.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Initiative laboratory….**

A metal clip board sailed past Riley's head. He ducked reflexively and grimaced. Professor Walsh was enraged about the latest bodies that had been found. Five more of their soldiers had been found drained and discarded like trash. One person was missing and no one could figure out why.

"What's the name of the missing private?" Maggie demanded. Her back was to Riley and her arms were crossed over her chest.

Riley consulted his own clipboard. "Private Michael Caden." He answered.

Maggie Walsh frowned. "That's the one who requested a transfer a few months ago. He didn't care for our methods." She paced for a few minutes, deep in thought. She turned back to Riley. "Is there a reason you can think of that the demon would take Private Caden? Have you seen them talking or seen Caden anywhere near the Hostile?"

"No, Ma'am. As far as I know Private Caden didn't have any duties near the Hostile. He was taken off the containment guard detail after his transfer request. You ordered that change. He was moved to perimeter detail." Riley flipped a page to reveal the missing soldier's personnel folder. It was open to the private's personal background. "He's from southwestern Missouri. He has no known ties to this area. That's one of the reasons he was assigned here."

"All of these men were killed by a vampire?" Walsh questioned again.

"Yes, Ma'am. As far as we can tell, the same vampire killed all the men. We just don't know if it was the missing hostile. I do know that the chip was working when he was released." Riley confirmed.

The professor directed a furious glare toward Riley. He prudently kept his gaze on the information contained in the folder. "You _saw_ the effects of the chip?" She asked suspiciously.

"Yes, Ma'am. Every time he tried to bite someone he got zapped. It got to the point that he shook just from approaching a human." Riley answered steadily. A gleam of amusement entered his hazel eyes as he thought of the vampire quivering in fear from approaching humans.

"Well, that's one thing that went right, I guess." Maggie mused as she gazed at a map with colored pins marking the location of each murdered soldier. "But that still doesn't explain how we're losing people left and right. There has to be a connection between the missing hostile and the killings." She whirled around to face Riley, startling him with her sudden movement. "There _is_ a connection. _Find_ _it_." She ordered and swept out of the laboratory.

Riley watched her leave with a quiet sigh of relief. Forrest sidled up to his friend and commander with a smirk on his dark face. "Well, _that_ went well." He observed dryly.

The taller man glanced at his friend. "Yeah, _right_. It's gonna be sooo _easy_ to find out what's killing our men." Finn grimaced in disgust as he flipped the cover sheet back over Caden's file. "Come on. I'm hungry. Let's go find something to eat."

Still discussing the disappearance of the younger private, they left the lab and went back up through the main building and out onto the campus of Sunnydale University.

**Summer's house….**

The demon huddled on his cot as he waited to see if anyone had noticed his misbehavior. He hadn't meant to speak, it just slipped out. There was a presence in the house, a powerful one. A familiar presence he couldn't have ignored for any reason. He raised wary golden eyes to the staircase and waited.

Upstairs Drusilla stood statue still as she gazed toward the kitchen. She tilted her head as if listening and frowned when she didn't appear to hear anything. Slowly she turned back around to survey the humans scattered around the small living room. Her icy blue gaze settled on Dawn for a few tense moments before she continued her circuit. She paused again when she saw Xander still attempting to hide behind Willow.

"Ah, my dark Kitten. You don't need to hide from Mummy." She purred as she approached the Scoobies. Xander squeaked then cringed at the unmanly sound. She smiled at him.

Giles sighed. "Drusilla, please stop teasing Xander."

The vampire pouted prettily and blew a kiss toward the young man. She knew the attraction she'd felt toward the Slayer's male friend had been the result of a spell but couldn't suppress the impulse to have a bit of fun with him.

"My William is awake. He needs to be fed." She floated over to the sofa and trailed a finger down Michael's face. "Wait here for Mummy, Pet." She crooned.

"Okay." Mike murmured, gazing up at the vampire with wide blue-gray eyes. She kissed his forehead softly before straightening. She turned toward Giles. "I assume you're feeding my Childe that bagged animal swill?"

Rupert met her gaze squarely. "Yes." He said simply.

Drusilla sneered. "Very well. He will need more if he is to heal." She took another survey of the room full of humans. Her elegant hand raised and she pointed to Xander. "You will help." Her hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head and suddenly spun around to face Joyce. "He needs you as well."

Joyce's hazel eyes widened in shock. "But I…" She began.

Dru waved her hand dismissively. "You did not know. He needs you." She repeated. She turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen.

Xander inched out from behind his life-long friend. He scrubbed both hands over his face. "G-man, you _promised_ I wouldn't have to deal with her." The brunet accused the Watcher.

"Xander, you know as well as I do that there is nothing we can do about her. She's promised not to hurt any of us so, for now, please do what you can to help." Giles removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"What do you want me to do?" Buffy walked over to Giles. "I don't feel right just letting her roam around the house. We need to get what's-his-name back to wherever she found him."

"No, Buffy. Removing Michael from Drusilla would be a serious breach of trust. He stays." Giles replaced his glasses and fixed his slayer with a firm stare. "You and Willow will go upstairs and shower. I want you both to put on fresh clothes." He looked over at the private sitting quietly on the sofa. "Take Dawn upstairs with you and make sure she stays there. I don't like Drusilla's interest in her."

"Neither do I." Joyce inserted. She hugged her youngest daughter briefly. "Stay upstairs. You can go see Spike later if Giles thinks it's safe." She promised.

"But Mo-om." Dawn whined.

"Your mother is right. It's too dangerous for you to be down here. I had planned for both you and your sister to be gone when Drusilla got here but Spike's attack on Willow and Buffy made that impossible." Giles told the upset girl gently.

Willow moved over and put a comforting arm around Dawn. "Come on, Dawnie. I'll help you with your homework." The redhead gently steered the younger girl toward the stairs.

He watched as the three girls did as they were told and climbed the stairs. With a speculative look at Michael, he spun around and headed for the kitchen. Joyce was explaining to Drusilla that they'd left a tray of blood in the basement while Xander did his best to hide in the corner next to the dishwasher.

The dark vampire turned her piercing gaze toward the older Brit. "You are not required." She stated.

Giles nodded. "I'm aware you don't wish me to be there. I would like to speak to Michael, if I may."

Dru smiled with delight. "You are polite and respect my claim." She clapped her hands lightly. "You may question my pretty pet." Her voice turned dreamy. "He _is_ a treat, is he not? I'm so happy I found him. He was not appreciated by the nasty soldiers and that horrid doctor. He has such a beautiful spark. Like burning baby fishes. He's … effulgent." She paused and frowned, reminded of something. "Burning baby fishes swimming around his head." She whispered. She turned to face the basement door. "My poor darling William. Mummy's here." She reached out and grasped the doorknob. Seconds later, she swept through the opened door.

Xander gaped as the vampire disappeared through the doorway. "G-man, I thought you said she was _saner_."

Giles snorted. "Trust me, Xander. She is."

Joyce shook her head in bemusement. "She is certainly _not_ what I expected from Spike's stories of her."

The three of them fell into an uneasy silence. Xander jumped when Drusilla poked her head back through the door. "Mum, Kitten. You are coming downstairs now." She withdrew as swiftly as she appeared, clearly expecting to be followed.

**In the basement…**

The demon was still watching the stairs with trepidation when the long skirts of Drusilla came into view. Recognition lit the golden eyes as she descended gracefully. As if spellbound, the demon rose to his knees on the cot. He held his unnecessary breath as he waited.

Drusilla could feel the waves of terror pouring from her mentally damaged Childe. She schooled her features to show none of the fury coursing through her cool body. The task became more difficult when she saw the condition Spike was in. Her icy gaze lingered over the stark lines of his too thin, too pale face. The ragged state of his clothes was enhanced by the way they hung from his gaunt body. Empty blood bags littered the floor around the mussed cot. He waited for her, kneeling on the blanket he'd been wrapped in for warmth. She could see the realization in his eyes and something else that she knew he'd lost many months before… hope.

Xander and Joyce followed the vampire as quietly as they could. Neither of them knew why their presence was required but was willing to wait and see what would happen next. Xander made sure Joyce was behind him, a small chivalrous part of him wanting to protect the woman he wished his own mother would emulate.

Joyce, for her part, clasped Xander's bicep lightly, willing to let him take the lead. The events of the past few days had left her off balance and frightened. Her affection for William demanded that she do everything she could to help. Even follow an insane vampire into the depths of her own basement.

The humans watched from the bottom of the stairs as Drusilla drew closer to Spike.

**In the living room….**

Mike sat on the sofa completely content in his entranced state. Peripherally, he knew there was something seriously wrong with his current situation but the relief he felt at knowing he did not have to return to the underground laboratory was well worth the slight fear. He felt more than saw the older man come back into the room.

"Michael, Drusilla has given me permission to speak with you." Giles began gently.

Mike blinked slowly and focused his smoky eyes on the coffee table near his knees. "Her name is Drusilla?" His voice was low and husky, the southern accent almost musical in its inflection.

"You're truly not afraid of her?" Rupert questioned, keeping his voice as non-threatening as he could.

"Should I be?" Mike pulled his gaze up to look at the man next to him.

"She's been killing your colleagues." Giles reminded him.

The private sucked in a breath, causing his cheeks to hollow slightly. Giles was struck by how much like Spike the young man looked at that moment. Mike closed his eyes, thinking hard. "I have seen those people do things that are so horrible, so… _inhuman_ that I'm having a really hard time caring." He admitted slowly.

"You found their actions to be wrong?" The Watcher questioned.

Mike looked at the other man in amazement. "Don't you?"

Giles shrugged noncommittally. "My feelings are not of concern."

"What is your name?" Mike asked quietly.

"I'm Rupert Giles." Giles introduced himself.

"You're from England?" The younger man questioned.

Giles nodded.

"That Hostile is too." Mike twisted his fingers together in his lap. He inhaled deeply. "The things they did to him…" He trailed off and concentrated on his hands. "What's _his_ name?"

Giles blinked as he tried to keep up with the sudden shifts in Mike's train of thought but answered anyway. "His name was William when he was human, now he's called Spike."

Mike nodded pensively.

Somehow Giles knew the young man wasn't finished so he waited patiently.

"My momma told me that God created _everything_." Mike raised his gaze to the ceiling as if he could see the deity he was referencing. "And that we should treat _all_ God's creatures with respect."

Giles was at a loss. Had Drusilla somehow affected this poor young man's mind? The vampire herself had been driven insane by her Sire, Angelus. Could she have done the same to this innocent boy? How long _had_ Michael been in Drusilla's control? Had she left him hidden somewhere when she came to his apartment? The Watcher could see that Michael was barely older than the children Giles had come to love as if they were his own. "Michael? Are you all right?"

"I thought that the most demonic thing I'd ever seen was that old mule my uncle wouldn't get rid of." A soft chuckle broke out. "I was _so_ **_wrong_**. The most demonic things in this world are the people who run that _place_." Mike's eyes returned to his twisting fingers. "I tried to get out. Applied for a transfer. I even tried to call in a few favors from my uncle but I couldn't… get… out. _She_ rescued me. I thought she was going to kill me or make me like her but she didn't."

"She might still turn you." Giles felt compelled to warn the private of the very real danger he faced.

The camouflage clad shoulders shrugged. "She could." He admitted. His tone was unconcerned, his manner calm.

"Aren't you afraid to die? To become a soulless demon?" Giles asked incredulously.

"_Are_ demons soulless? You _know_ this for a fact? I've seen some of the things ensouled beings can do and then I look at Miss Drusilla and I see how she much cares for Spike. I've seen demons who weren't doing _anything_ to threaten _anyone_ but were killed anyway just because they didn't follow a specific physiological profile. They weren't just killed. They were tortured, experimented on, cut into bits like..." Mike broke off and shuddered at the memory of the horrors he'd witnessed in the past ten months. "God created man, animals, plants, trees, the sky and pretty much everything in the world, right?" He glanced at Giles for confirmation.

Giles nodded slowly, confused by yet another sudden turn in the conversation. He decided it wasn't the right time to indulge in a theological discussion of just how the world had been created.

"Then what's to say He _didn't_ create vampires, werewolves and all the other demons too numerous to mention? Have you _ever_ thought of _that_?" He didn't wait for an answer this time. "_She_ didn't. _She_ thinks she's right, that she's got the _right_ to do those **_things_**." He turned to Giles suddenly, his eyes ablaze with rage. "Tell me, Mr. Giles. Just who _is_ the demon here?"

_**TBC**_


	11. The Demon Remembers

The Demon Remembers

Disclaimer: Not mine, just breaking and mending. I'll put em back when I'm done. Promise.

Summary: Spying, crying and words.

Reviews: Yes please. Love reviews more than is good for me. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Warning, there are some implications of torture in this chapter. Spike speaks! Yay! Well, not a lot but the word count is definitely going up.

Many thanks as always to my rockin partner in crime WayWard Childe for his advice, encouragement and continually challenging me to write better chapters. Thanks, Luv.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Giles gaped at the young man sitting next to him, futilely attempting to process the theological leap the soldier had just presented. One thing struck him as being odd. "Michael, you said 'she'. Who is 'she' exactly?"

Michael gave a small humorless smile. "_She_ is Professor Maggie Walsh. She's the director of the Initiative." His dislike of the woman was evident in his tone.

Rupert blinked. The Initiative? "What is the Initiative?" He asked curiously.

"It is a military operation secreted beneath the campus of UC Sunnydale. Its purpose is to contain and control the demon population of the area. Professor Walsh has deviated from that objective in that she has decided to experiment on the demons. She had permission from the government to install behavior control chips in their brains but that was all. The torture she's inflicting on the captives is horrific in the extreme." Michael twisted his fingers in his lap and studied them closely. He closed his eyes and sighed. "What she did to that Hostile… I'm sorry…. Spike was _wrong_ in so many ways."

The Watcher removed his glasses. He was intimately familiar with torture. His stint as Angelus' captive had been _very_ educational. He'd only been the dark vampire's 'guest' for a day. He knew Spike had been in the clutches of the Initiative for _far_ longer than that. "How long _was_ Spike in the Initiative?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"I was there for ten months. They captured him a month after I got there. I requested a transfer three months ago but they said that it was impossible to leave early. They kept me away from the Hostile confinement area after that. I was shifted to perimeter guard duty a few days after my paperwork was kicked back." His serious blue-grey eyes focused unnervingly on Giles. "He stopped talking seven months ago. Professor Walsh tortured him into silence. She refused to allow him independent thought. What gets me…" He trailed off, turning his gaze to study the small tasteful living room he'd found himself in.

"What 'gets' you?" Giles asked gently. He could tell this soldier was a gentle, kind hearted person. He couldn't fathom what possessed the young man to enlist in the military, given his peaceful nature.

"What gets me is how the other guys in the unit accept the way the demons are treated. They act like its ok to inflict that kind of pain on another sentient being." Michael answered quietly.

Giles noticed he didn't refer to the demons as people or animals but sentient beings. That was certainly an interesting way to look at it. One that Giles admittedly had never thought of. But then, he'd never had any sustained contact with any demons other than Angelus and his vampire family. The ensouled Angel was not someone he trusted or even liked very much. He knew from his admittedly limited contact with Spike that the blond vampire was fairly intelligent. He'd shown remarkable cunning and stealth when he'd concealed his recovery from his Sire and Grandsire. Something Michael had said registered.

"Did you say that Spike had been in that place for **_nine_** _months_?" The question was harsh with shock. It came out a little louder than he would have liked and he glanced at the stairs to make sure the girls were still out of earshot. He didn't see Buffy lurking at the top of the stairs.

"Yes, Sir. That's just about right. They let him escape a few days ago so they could see how the chip would work and what he'd look like if he starved long enough. I heard some of the other guys talking while we were looking for him. They thought it was _funny_." Mike admitted, his handsome face grimaced in distaste over the plan.

"Oh my God." Giles whispered, appalled and disgusted. While Drusilla had told him some of what the younger vampire had been through, she'd neglected to say how long her Childe had been captive. Could it be she didn't know? Is that why she hadn't arrived sooner to help him?

**In the basement…**

Joyce and Xander watched wordlessly as Drusilla drifted closer to the seemingly captivated demon crouched on the cot. They huddled together near the stairs. Each of them wondered why they were there.

Drusilla fought to keep the rage she was feeling from her face. Anger was not what her Childe needed at this time. She knew that gold was flickering in her eyes. She reached out to touch his gaunt face, tracing her slender fingers over his ridges gently as his eyes flickered closed.

"No, my William. Look at Mummy." She murmured. His golden eyes opened slowly and he gazed up at her, apparently unaware of their witnesses. All of his attention was focused on his Sire. She smiled as her razor sharp fingernail scored lightly down his cheek. He flinched as blood welled in the cut. Joyce gasped at the action, watching horrified as Dru leaned down and licked the seeping wound. The soft sound drew the demon's attention. He turned his head slightly and trained his hazy gaze on the humans near the stairs. Dru put her finger under his chin and brought his eyes back around to herself.

"I _said_, look at Mummy." She instructed. She concentrated on the flavor of her Childe's blood. She could taste the terror he'd been living under, the pain from the chip and the comfort he'd gleaned from being in this basement. She turned her head and looked over at Joyce. "Home." She said softly.

Spike jumped at the word. _Home_. Forbidden thoughts swirled in his confused mind. Tiny sparks of pain began shooting through his head as he fought to bring coherency to those thoughts. He opened his mouth to try to speak but fear made him hesitate.

Drusilla placed her finger gently on his parted lips. "In a moment, Luv. First you must change your face. Let William out, Pet." She stroked his ridges, indicating she wanted them to recede.

Panic flooded the demon's body as images flashed in his mind. _A huge tank filled with icy water. A chair with wrist and ankle straps, electric wires that attached to sensitive portions of a body. A room heated nearly hot enough to reduce a vampire to dust. Another room so cold frost developed on the walls. Shiny medical instruments that were used to slice into skin and bone._ He began to tremble in denial of what she was asking.

Drusilla picked up on her Childe's renewed terror and began to croon softly. "It's all right Sweet William. You must let the demon recede so I can see you." Her voice was low and soothing, pitched to enthrall the listener.

Spike swallowed visibly as his tormented mind tried to process the request. He wasn't sure he _could_ change his face. It had been so _long_ since… A shiver shook his too-thin body as his head swung slowly from side to side, denying the order from his Sire to change his visage.

'_You are a thing. Things do not have the right to human features. Monsters like you should look like monsters. Don't let me see that face again. You do not speak. I never want to hear another word come from your filthy mouth. Monsters do not think. If I get the feeling that you are thinking, you will regret it. Do you understand? Just nod if you do.'_ The words that had been drilled into his mind came rushing to the forefront of his memory.

Drusilla sensed that she was losing his attention. She grasped his chin in a nearly painful grip. "Childe." The single word was low and menacing. The slow shake of his head had surprised her. Denying a direct order from a Sire was grounds for severe punishment.

Panic flooded the demon's slender frame. He could smell humans in the room; humans equaled pain and punishment in his fractured mind. His Sire had his face in a grasp that could, and very possibly would, turn painful in a millisecond. Instinct had him desperately wanting to obey his Sire's command, but fear kept his face from changing and sheer terror kept him silent.

**Upstairs…**

Buffy padded down the stairs as silently as her slayer training allowed. She'd heard the last portion of the conversation that had taken place between her Watcher and the young soldier. As much as she sometimes hated her destiny as the 'Chosen One', it was times like this that drove home just how much it did suck. She'd caught enough of the conversation to understand why the demonic activity on the Hellmouth had decreased in the past few months. She paused when she realized that Michael was staring straight at her as she stealthily moved down the stairs.

Giles noticed that his companion's attention had been diverted. He shifted to look in the same direction as the younger man, frowning when he spotted Buffy coming downstairs.

"Buffy? I seem to recall asking you to stay upstairs." The Watcher chided. Buffy gave up on stealth and hopped quickly down the remaining steps.

Michael watched the petite blonde come further into the room. Long ingrained habit had him rising slightly as she moved closer. She blinked at his unexpected courtesy.

The Slayer turned her attention to Giles. "Will's making Dawn study. I wanted to know what Drusilla's up to. I feel a bit wiggy having her wandering around the house like that. What did she want Mom and Xander for?"

"She feels that Joyce and Xander can help her with Spike's recovery. I'm not sure exactly how she plans on doing that." The Brit answered.

Buffy went into the kitchen. She retrieved the baby monitor and, returning to the living room, waggled it in the air suggestively. "Why don't we do a bit of eavesdropping?"

**In the basement…**

Spike dropped his gaze from his Sire's icy blue eyes. She let out a subsonic growl of frustration at the submissive act. Her lovely features shifted. "_Look_ _at_ _me_." She ordered, her fangs glistened in the bright light of the room. Very slowly, the fear filled golden eyes moved back up to meet hers. "That's right, Pet. _See_ me." Purposely she let her demon recede. "Let me see you."

He flicked an apprehensive glance toward the humans several feet away, looking away quickly as his training dictated. Never stare directly at a human, to do so was grounds for swift and severe punishment. He was beneath humans. Dru did not mistake the reason behind the glance. "They are not here to hurt you, my Childe. They are here to help." Her fingers tightened fractionally on his chin. "Disobey me again and _I_ may punish you but humans will never be allowed to do so again." She swore softly in his ear.

The demon processed the threat carefully. He could not remember how this lovely creature could punish him. His recent memories were of excruciating pain and mind blinding torment. _Cold steel chains fastened to the ceiling, pulling arms from their sockets. Cattle prods that delivered quick agonizing jolts of electricity. Sharp surgical steel that sliced through cool skin and tense muscles without anesthetic._ A shudder racked his body as midnight blue chased a fraction of the gold from his eyes.

Drusilla hissed in an unneeded breath sharply. "Yes. That's it, Little One. Put the demon away. Let me see William." This time when he shook his head his demonic ridges receded and his human face was revealed for the first time in many months. He held his unnecessary breath in fear.

"There you are." Dru cooed. "My lovely boy. Now, tell Mummy how long you were in that horrid place."

This time the eyes that held hers were sapphire blue. She could see the terror holding him silent. The elder vampire watched carefully as he opened his mouth experimentally. "Yes, Childe. Talk to Mummy." She encouraged. He caught his breath at the loving tone in the words. He took another deep unneeded gulp of air.

His voice was husky from disuse, a mere whisper of sound that seemed to echo in the huge room. "I don't know." His gaze dropped as he tensed for the punishment he was sure he'd earned by being unable to provide the information she wanted. Dru clucked softly at the action, pulling his chin back up so he faced her again.

"That's all right, Darling. What's the last thing you remember other than that place?" Her question was gently spoken.

Thick dark lashes fluttered with fear as he tried to recall something that _didn't_ have to do with _that_ _place_. More images flashed through his head, a disquieting video of the torment he'd endured for those long months. A flicker of feeling filtered through the confusion. He sent a surprised glance toward the _human_ female who stood watching with a trembling hand covering her mouth. He struggled briefly as he tried to remember the word. Sire had said it earlier. He tried and failed to say it. He frowned in uncertainty but his forehead cleared seconds later as he came up with the word he was searching for. His gaze locked on Joyce's damp hazel eyes. Very deliberately, he spoke again. "Home."

**Upstairs….**

Buffy shook the monitor she was holding. "What did he say?" Her big green eyes focused on Giles for the answer.

"He said, 'Home'." Michael told her, his own gaze fixed on the small plastic transmitter.

Giles cleared his throat. "He said that earlier for your mother. She tried to bribe him into speaking and that's what he said. That was the fright Xander spoke about. Spike thought Xander had been sent down to punish him for speaking."

Mike nodded. "That sounds about right. Professor Walsh would sweet-talk him into speaking and then punish him when he did. She also bribed him a few times but after a while he caught on and refused to say anything at all. I'm really surprised he responded to Mrs… I'm sorry… What was your mother's name?" The last question was aimed at Buffy.

"Summers, her name is Joyce Summers." Buffy blurted, startled.

The soldier flashed a smile at the Slayer. "Thank you. As I was saying, he hasn't spoken in seven months. I'm surprised Mrs. Summers was able to get him to say anything at all. Your friend, Xander, is about the right age and size for one of the punishers. It's no wonder Spike was afraid of him."

"Punishers?" Giles asked.

Mike nodded, a grimace twisting his handsome face. "Some of the more… willing… recruits who didn't mind learning how to cause pain were given the job of punishing the demons who wouldn't cooperate. Spike earned more than his fair share of punishment until she broke him. It took her two months. A lot of other Hostiles broke in a lot less time. He was stubborn. She loved that about him. He became her favorite test subject. Her pet project."

Buffy stared. "Did you say Professor Walsh? She's my psychology professor. Are you telling me _she_ did _that_ to Spike?"

**In the basement…**

Joyce turned abruptly and buried her face in Xander's shoulder, her tears beginning to dampen his shirt. The male Scooby closed his arms around her instinctively. The demon watched the human's actions with narrowed blue eyes. A low snarl began low in his chest. Drusilla watched his reaction with interest.

'Well, my William has not changed.' She thought indulgently. She ran elegant fingers through his tousled curls, tugging gently on the two-toned locks to bring his attention back on herself. "William." She said aloud. "Why do you say 'home' when you look at her?"

Spike looked up at his Sire, reluctantly dragging his gaze away from the couple by the steps. He frowned as he tried to sort his thoughts as sparks of pain continued to shoot through his brain. How could he explain it? A forgotten memory floated to the surface of the chaos that was his thought processes. _Hot chocolate in a large white mug with tiny little marshmallows warmed his hands while he listened to this woman talk about her day. It didn't matter who else lived under this roof, while he was visiting he was…_ His eyes widened with sudden realization. Now, if he could just remember how to say it. One word that might explain how he felt. Long moments passed as she waited patiently. Finally he had it. A deep breath and the word sighed out. "_Safe_."

_**TBC**_


	12. Demon's Pain

Demon's Pain

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing them. I'll put 'em back when I'm done.

Summary: More words and a surprising confrontation.

Reviews: Oh yes please. Love reviews, adore reviews. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: This chapter was hard to write as there are implications of extreme torture. I didn't want to get too graphic yet but we'll be getting there soon. More of what happened to Spike is coming out. Response to this fic is amazing and I'm thrilled about it. I know this one is a little shorter than the others but it was a good place to stop so….

WayWard Childe, you completely and totally ROCK! Thank you so much for putting up with my rampant insecurity over this chapter. Thanks for the assist!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Upstairs…**

Buffy shook the white plastic monitor again and glared at it as if that would clarify what she was hearing. "Why did he say '_safe'_? And who's Insaneo Vamp taking about when she said '_she'_?" She put the monitor down on the coffee table and directed a glare toward her watcher. "Giles, do you know what's going on down there? If you don't, I'm going and getting Mom out of there."

Giles pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. It was turning into a torturously long day. He gave a mental snort at his terminology. "I have an idea." He said with a sigh. "Now, please, do be quiet. If you will insist on eavesdropping, then at least have the decency to do it in silence."

Michael ducked his head in a vain attempt to hide the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He knew the blonde wasn't but a year or two younger than he was but she seemed so much less mature. He sobered a bit at the thought that what he'd been through would make anyone feel old. He was just happy he hadn't been chosen for any of Maggie Walsh's 'special projects'. He didn't like the physical and mental changes that had affected some of the soldiers who had. But they didn't seem to notice the differences in their own bodies. He shuddered and tuned back in to the conversation issuing from the small speaker.

Giles noticed the shudder that ran through the young man's slender frame. He was struck by the physical resemblance between Michael and Spike at his best. Covertly, he studied the soldier; once again taking note of the high cheekbones, slight frame and blue eyes, although Mike's eyes were not as bright a blue as Spike's. The human's being more grayish in color. Michael's hair was darker than Spike's and not as curly as Giles knew the vampire's to be when not tamed by the bleach and gel. But he could see why Drusilla had chosen not to kill this unique man. He blinked when Mike looked at him with a startlingly Spike-like smirk and inclined his head toward the monitor. Feeling heat in his face, the Watcher turned back to the drama being played out below their feet.

**In the basement….**

Drusilla beamed at her Childe. "Now, Pet. I need you to look at Mummy's Kitten. How does he make you feel?" She stroked Spike's pale cheek with a gentle finger.

The demon blinked before looking up at Dru in confusion. 'Kitten?' He hadn't seen a kitten anywhere. His now-blue eyes scanned the basement floor looking for the feline in question.

A rich laugh bubbled out of Sire's throat. "No, Darling." She pointed toward the dark haired human holding on to the _safe_ female.

A snarl rumbled in Spike's chest. Hearing it, Xander eased Joyce away from his shoulder and pushed her slightly behind him. Seeing the anger on the male human's face, the demon froze. Irrational fear flooded the gaunt body. The human looked like a punisher. Sire had said no humans would be allowed to punish him any longer so why was there one of _them_ there? Panting in terror, Spike failed to realize that no one in the room _smelled_ like anyone from **_that_** **_place_**.

Dru sensed the sudden rise in her Childe's fear. "William, why does _that_ human frighten you?" She frowned when he refused to look at her, instead staring at the couple near the stairs. His training was momentarily forgotten in his fear. "Tell me." She commanded.

Spike frowned as he attempted to remember the words he needed to convey his fear. Now, if he could just figure out how to say it. He clenched his fist and beat it slowly against his thigh. A scowl marred his handsome face in his frustration. Her command had succeeded in distracting him from the worst of his fear. He sent an apprehensive glance toward Xander. The human's scowl of anger had given way to an expression of confusion. Belatedly remembering his training, Spike dropped his gaze submissively. The words he needed began tumbling through his mind. "_Punisher, pain, chains, holy water, tank, hurts, stop, won't talk, won't think, please, stop, cutting, blood._" He didn't realize he _was_ speaking. Although the words were little more than a whisper, they echoed around the basement as if he were shouting. His unnecessary breath panted out faster as he spoke. "_Broken, hungry, hurts, wantwant**want**._" A chant began to build, growing louder in volume. His fist beat harder against his leg, keeping time with the words that continued to pour from his mouth. The chain attached to his wrist clanked with the compulsive movements.

All the humans listening, both upstairs and down, were shocked and horrified by what was being revealed in the litany erupting from Spike. Even Michael, who knew what had taken place, was sickened once again by the treatment the vampire had received.

Spike seemed lost in his memories as the torrent of words continued, repeating the ones he first uttered and adding more, the volume growing as he spoke. "**_Punisher, tank, whip, beat, break, choke, hurt, blood. Dripping, dripping. Red on white. My blood. Dripping. Hear it. Drip, drip, drip. Electricity, chair, knife, cutting._**" He yelled as he began pulling at his chains. He backed away from Drusilla, seemingly unaware she was still standing in front of him. A sob from Joyce captured his attention and he whipped around to face her and Xander. "**_Want, want, want. Safe, safe. Home. Please._**" He panted the words out as he continued to tug at his bonds. He began to roam the cot, back and forth against the wall, pulling on the chains with incoherent roars of rage and frustration.

Xander pulled Joyce back into his arms and began running his hand up and down her back as she wept onto his shoulder. The male Scooby watched Spike as he stopped suddenly, staring at them through narrowed blue eyes.

"**_Home, safe, mine, want, need, safe, MINE!_**" Spike roared the words before he turned away and pulled hard on the chains attaching him to the wall. Growls of fury filled the air as he struggled.

Drusilla raised her hand to place it on his shoulder but dropped it when he flinched from her touch. Anger clouded her lovely features but only for a moment. The furious demon on the cot stopped cold at the appearance of her displeasure. Terror chased the anger from his face and he bolted for the corner. He huddled into the tiny space and folded his arms over his head. "_Sorry, sorry. Please. Won't talk, won't think._" Panic replaced his rage as he chanted his pleas for no more pain. "_Nomorenomorenomore._"

**Upstairs….**

"_Nomorenomorenomore._" The trio of listeners sat shock still after hearing the level of pain in the chant. The only sounds emanating from the tiny monitor were those of Joyce's sob and Spike's harsh panting. Buffy was the first to recover. She shot an angry glare toward Giles.

"You brought not one but _two_ insane vampires into my house?" Her voice was low and menacing.

Rupert opened his mouth but Mike beat him to it. "He's _not_ insane." The soldier stated coldly. "He's communicating for the first time in almost _seven_ months."

"I don't understand." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly.

Mike sighed with exasperation. "Miss Summers, Spike was tortured, trained into not thinking or speaking for more than two months before he gave up and stopped talking. You would not believe the things Walsh and her pet soldiers did to those demons. They didn't deserve it. No sentient creature deserves to be treated like that. She took the greatest of joy in her treatment of Spike because he was so _hard_ to break. He became her pet project, her favorite test subject. The fact that he is speaking now, even almost incoherently, is a testament to his strength."

Buffy frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about, sentient creature? Spike is a monster, a vampire, a merciless killer. He's a soulless evil creature and if your people are taking things like him off the street then maybe it's a good thing." She yelped when Mike moved suddenly and pinned her against the wall behind her. His hands held her shoulders firmly to the wood. She resisted the impulse to use slayer strength to get away. She threw a glance toward Giles and was shocked when he merely raised an eyebrow without speaking. Instead, he just watched curiously to see what would happen next.

Mike's southern accent was thicker with his rage. "_A sentient being is defined by the ability to think, speak and reason. You can **not** tell me that Spike is not a sentient being. I was in his detention block for six **months** after he got taken. That **man** meets all three of those requirements as well has having the capacity for emotion._" He released Buffy from his grasp and backed up.

She shook herself even though his hold, while firm, had not hurt. She opened her mouth but was interrupted before she got a sound out.

"Do you eat meat?" Mike's abrupt change of subject knocked the Slayer off balance. Giles glanced down to hide his smirk.

"Um, yeah. Sometimes." She stuttered.

"Well, how would you like it if you went to take a bite of a hamburger and you got an electric shock through your brain?" Mike asked conversationally.

"I – ah – guess I wouldn't like that." She admitted reluctantly.

"No, you wouldn't." Mike nodded with satisfaction. "That's what happens to Spike _every_ _time_ he tries to feed. He gets an electric shock to his brain if he tries to hurt a human. His _food_ _source_."

Buffy grinned. "Well, that's fine then. He can't kill. Go Army." She chirped.

Mike growled, startling his companions with how much like Spike he sounded. He turned to Giles. "Is she _always_ this **_stupid_**?" He asked in frustration.

"Hey!" She yelped indignantly.

"Well…" Giles began.

"I'm not stupid. I'm in college which is more than I can say for you!" She shot.

"I graduated with honors two years early and joined the Army to travel." Mike informed her heatedly. "_Then _I find myself in sunny California hunting demons for an insane, power mad _bitch_ to experiment on. If that wasn't enough, I get rescued by one of those _demons_ and _she_ treats me better than anyone in the Initiative _ever_ did. How's that for crazy?"

Buffy gaped at Mike, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"My boy, I do believe you've managed to stump her." Giles observed with considerable amusement.

"I'm going down there and getting my Mom." The blonde declared. She turned toward the kitchen.

Mike reached out with surprising speed and grasped her arm firmly. She shook him off, or tried to. She gasped when she couldn't dislodge his grip. "Did Drusilla turn you?"

A smile creased his handsome face. He reached up casually and took her silver cross pendant in his hand. She blinked when it failed to harm him. "How?"

"It's called training, Miss Summers. I'm sure you've heard of it." Mike smirked, surprising Buffy again with his likeness to Spike.

"Not that I've seen." Giles muttered, earning a glare from his slayer.

With a firm grip, Mike led Buffy over to the sofa, ignoring her resistance. He shoved her gently down next to the Watcher. "How did he _do_ that?" She hissed at Giles. She glowered when he just shrugged.

"I've had extensive martial arts training. I don't have to be stronger than you to be more powerful." His calm statement confused the blonde.

Giles laughed outright at the outrage on the girl's face.

Mike grinned at the older man before turning back to Buffy. "Now if you're finished being the stereotypical dumb blonde. I must say the color you chose suits you to a T, by the way. You _are_ the one who insisted we listen to Miss Drusilla so I suggest you stay down and shut up."

With a hate filled glare, Buffy turned her attention back to the monitor which was still only transmitting Joyce's muffled sobs and Spike's terrified panting. It was almost as if Drusilla was waiting until the conflict upstairs was finished before continuing with her attempts to recover her Childe.

Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them studiously. "Michael?" He began quietly.

"Yes, Sir?" Mike turned his attention to the Brit.

"What did you major in at college?" The out-of-the-blue question made the soldier smile. Giles checked the lenses for lint and quirked an eyebrow. He was shocked to see a flush rise in the distinctive cheekbones.

Mike ducked his head shyly but answered anyway. "Literature." He answered almost too quietly to hear.

"Amazing." Giles replaced his glasses and went back to watching the monitor. The idea of investigating Mike's ancestry intrigued the Watcher. Despite the obvious differences in upbringing and education, he was willing to bet a rare book that this young man was a descendant of one William the Bloody, which would certainly explain Drusilla's behavior.

_**TBC**_


	13. Demon's Breakthough

Demon's Breakthrough

Disclaimer: I own Mike but the rest of them I just _wish_ I owned.

Summary: Realization and comfort.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: WayWard Childe! Dude! I miss you more than you know. I dedicate this chapter for you because it fulfills _one_ of your wishes for this story. Hope it doesn't suck too much.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**In the basement… **

Xander and Joyce watched Drusilla carefully, wondering why the vampire was gazing up at the ceiling while her Childe trembled in the corner. His chains were clanking softly with his tremors. Xander thought over the outpouring of words that Spike had released. '_Punisher_.' There were men whose job was to punish demons? Xander shivered slightly at the thought. He hated vampires and demons just plain terrified him but he couldn't see himself purposely inflicting pain on one just because someone told him to. 'Slay 'em and forget 'em' that was Xander's personal motto concerning demons. He distractedly continued to run a hand soothingly down Joyce's back while she soaked his shoulder with her tears.

"Shhhh, Shhhh." Xander murmured. "It'll be all right."

Joyce pulled back and wiped some of the tears from her face. "How? How can we fix this? Oh God, Xander, what they did to him…"

He considered that for a second. 'What _they_ did to him.' Not what _Xander_ had done. _He_ wasn't a 'Punisher'. He gazed thoughtfully at the terrified vampire. Maybe there _was_ something he could do. Drusilla chose that moment to turn around and look at the humans. Her icy blue gaze caught Xander's whiskey-hued one and she nodded. Putting his mouth close to Joyce's ear, he whispered his plan. She jerked her head back far enough to lock her wet, startled hazel eyes on his.

"What if he…." Xander was shaking his head before she could finish forming the question.

"He can't hurt me. Look at him." Xander nodded toward Spike, shivering in his corner. "We can't leave him there thinking I'm here to punish him. It _has_ to be me. As long as he associates me with that place, he won't feel safe." Xander gulped at the implications of that statement. 'God, he must have been so fucking _terrified_ every time I came down here. No wonder he was in tears with relief that one time.' He thought to himself. He gently pushed Joyce away from the comfort of his arms and turned resolutely to face the vampires.

Drusilla smiled serenely when her Kitten squared his shoulders and stepped toward the cot. "Yes." She murmured, pleased. She looked behind the carpenter and smiled at Joyce. "Mum, would you please go prepare some blood for my William?" The Slayer's mother nodded shakily and fled up the stairs. Dru looked at Xander again as he slowly approached Spike.

It felt to Xander as if the short trip across the basement floor had taken an hour when in fact it had only been a few seconds. He stopped directly in front of Spike's bare feet. He gulped and glanced back at Drusilla again. At her encouraging nod, he crouched down until he was at eye level with the frightened vampire or would have been if Spike's face hadn't been buried in his knees.

Xander took another deep breath. "Spike." He spoke sternly and winced when the emaciated figure in front of him started. "Spike, look at me." He commanded.

Slowly the two-toned head rose until wide blue eyes peeked over the threadbare black denim. Xander kept his face as calm as he could while he let his eyes hold that blue gaze. Belatedly remembering his training, Spike let his eyes drop. He jerked when Xander spoke again.

"I said _look_ _at_ _me_."

Spike's tremors grew in intensity as he tried to keep his gaze on the man in front of him. The longer he looked directly at the human, the worse the punishment. He knew this, it had been beaten into him. Terror flooded him as Xander held his gaze.

"I'm _not_ going to hurt you." The calm voice did little to ease the vampire's fear. He'd been told that before. It had always been a lie. That was one thing he'd learned very well, humans **_lie_**. He waited. Xander stretched out his right hand and put his fingers lightly on Spike's bare foot. It quivered under the touch but he didn't withdraw it, to do so was guaranteed to bring ever worsening punishment. "Spike, smell me. I'm not a punisher."

"_Punisher hurts, breaks, starves, hurthurthurt. Sorry, sorry, won't do it, won't talk, won't think, please, no more."_ The quiet pleading made tears prickle at the back of Xander's eyes. He moved his hand up from the slender bare foot and put in directly on Spike's knee.

"Spike." This time the name came out more commandingly. "_Smell_ me. I am not one of _them_."

This time a frown creased Spike's human features. 'Smell him?' He thought. He took a cautious sniff. He hated the scent of _those_ _people_ nearly as much as the odor of the _not_ _right_ blood they fed him. Confusion rapidly began replacing the fear in his tormented mind.

"That's right. Take a good whiff. I'm not one of them. You don't have to be afraid. You're safe here. No one knows where you are." Xander held very still while he watched the terror fade from those huge blue eyes.

'Familiar. Not one of _them_. Not _punisher_.' He looked at the hand on his knee and then back up to the calm face before him. "Not _Punisher_." The two words whispered out involuntarily.

"No, Spike. _Not_ Punisher." Xander confirmed with a small smile.

The vampire took another curious sniff. He frowned, trying to place the human's scent. He felt he should know but trying to remember was making his head ache. "Safe?" His trembling began to ease as understanding started to filter through his mind. "Home?" He looked around the basement for the _safe_ female. His frown deepened when he failed to see her.

**Upstairs….**

Michael grinned widely when he heard Xander get through to Spike. "He's _got_ it." He crowed gleefully. "He understands. Hot _damn_!"

Buffy glared at the soldier and stalked into the kitchen to check on her mother. She'd heard the older woman come up the stairs and had only stayed long enough to make sure Xander would not be in danger left alone in the basement with both insane vampires.

Giles was surprised by the level of elation that he felt as he listened to Spike finally understand that he was safe. He looked over at the triumphant face of Drusilla's new companion. He wondered why this human cared so much about this particular vampire.

"Why do you care?" The Watcher asked out loud.

Mike glanced over at the older man and stood up. He began pacing back and forth in the small room. "Why do I care?" He mused to himself quietly. He went to run his fingers through his hair, dislodged the camouflage cap he'd forgotten he was wearing and caught it before it got past his shoulders. Giles gaped at the speed of his reaction. It was nearly vampiric in nature.

Mike turned to pace back the other way and caught a glimpse of the expression on Giles's face. He tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

Giles smiled ruefully. "My job is to figure things out and make the Slayer's job easier. I can't figure you out." He admitted.

The soldier stopped and thought about that for a moment. "I'm not special." He remarked. "I don't know why Miss Drusilla wanted to 'keep me'." He smiled and spread his arms invitingly. "I'm an open book. Ask me anything."

Rupert sat up straighter as questions began churning in the inner working of his intellect. "You said you graduated two years early. That would make you what? 22?" He began.

Mike admitted. "I'm 20." He blushed at the open mouthed amazement at his confession. He felt compelled to explain. "I skipped grades in high school and graduated at sixteen. I got into accelerated classes in college and got a four year degree in two years. I was eighteen when I joined the Army."

"Incredible." Giles muttered.

Mike chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the side of his nose with a forefinger. "I'm kinda smart."

**In the kitchen…**

Joyce took a few minutes to compose herself before she made her way over to the refrigerator. Mechanically removing several bags of blood, she carried the cold plastic over to the microwave. She wiped tears from her face as her eldest daughter stalked into the room.

"Mom? Are you all right?" Buffy asked, fingering a stake idly.

"Put that thing away. I'm fine." Joyce's voice was steady despite her prior upset. "You are not killing anyone or anything in this house."

Buffy blinked at the order but stuck the stake back into her pocket. "I was listening. Why does Spike feel safe with you?" The slayer asked suspiciously.

Joyce took a deep breath as the microwave beeped. "He used to come over to visit before the last time he left to find Drusilla." She began stacking the warmed blood on a tray. She reached into a drawer for her small safety scissors and then pulled a plastic mug from the cupboard to add to the set up.

"He did _what_?" The question came out amazingly controlled considering the rage that coursed through the petite blonde.

The older woman crossed her arms across her chest and faced her daughter. "You heard me. Spike is my friend. He used to come over for tea or hot chocolate and we'd talk. I like him."

Buffy gaped at her mother. "He used to come over for _tea_?"

Joyce nodded as she picked up the tray. "I don't see why you and Mr. Giles have such a problem with that. William is a very nice, very intelligent young man."

"_Giles_ knows?" Buffy's voice rose. "Mom, he is _not_ a nice young man. He's a **_vampire_**."

"Well, he's also my friend. So get over it." Joyce swept through the basement door, leaving her Slayer daughter doing her best fish impersonation.

**In the basement….**

Spike looked up as footsteps made their way determinedly down the stairs. Xander watched carefully as recognition bloomed in the dark blue eyes. The human glanced over his shoulder to watch Joyce as she walked steadily over to the cot. A sharp inhalation brought Xander's head back around to see what was wrong.

Spike watched the _safe_ female carry a tray of _not_ _wrong_ blood across the room. He gasped as he remembered who she was. '_Joyce_.' The name flew out of the recesses of his memory and flooded his body with relief. He _was_ safe. He was in Joyce's house. This was where he'd longed to be for so many long months. "Home." He whispered.

Joyce heard the word clearly as she carefully placed the tray on the chair. She smiled mistily at the thin vampire. "Yes, Spike. You're home."

Xander heard the gulping sob as it broke from Spike's throat. "Hey, now. No need for that." He chided gently. He straightened and held his hand out. "Come on. That corner can't be comfortable."

Spike gazed warily at the outstretched hand. "Like it here." He muttered, folding his arms tighter around his legs. He huddled back a little closer to the cement wall.

Xander glared at the stubborn vampire. "Out of the corner, Spike." He ordered. He jumped, startled when golden eyes blinked up at him. A hiss sounded from behind the worn denim.

"Like it here." The blond reiterated sullenly through his fangs. "Safe." He returned to his human features, much to Xander's relief.

Drusilla decided she's been the spectator long enough. "William." She said gently. "You need to feed. Do you want to do it from there?" She drifted closer to where Xander was still standing in front of her reluctant Childe. The human shifted way from her skittishly, moving back toward the stairs with an idea of swift escape.

Spike peeked up at her. "Like it here." He repeated, a little less sullen but still resolute.

She studied him for a few more seconds before she nodded. "Very well, Luv." She glanced at Joyce, who picked up the hint and repositioned the tray so it sat at the end of the cot within easy reach of Spike.

"There you go." She murmured. "Eat all you want. There's plenty more."

Spike gazed up at her with huge solemn eyes. "_Joyce_." He whispered; the word hoarse with the memory of months of anguish.

Tears welled in her hazel eyes. "Yes, Will. I'm here." She slipped past Dru and crouched in front of her friend.

A crystalline tear threatened to fall from tormented sapphire eyes. Joyce hesitantly reached over and threaded gentle fingers into tangled two-toned curls. "I'm here." She repeated tenderly.

He broke at her touch.

Joyce landed hard on her knees as his bony shoulders began to shake with the force of his sobs. Her arms wrapped around him lovingly as she pulled him closer to her. She shifted into a sitting position so she could tuck his face onto her shoulder. He released his legs and let them fall as he let her tug him into place. He twined his arms around his own waist and leaned against her while she crooned soothingly. Tears of her own rolled down her face as she held him close and ran her slender fingers through his hair.

Dru looped an arm through Xander's, causing him to jump. "Come with me, Kitten. He wouldn't want to know you to saw this." She whispered.

Xander dragged his stunned gaze from the couple on the floor and let the vampire pull him up the stairs.

**Upstairs….**

Mike stopped and stared at the monitor as he heard the exchange between Joyce and Spike. He extended an elegant hand and switched the device off just as the vampire's hoarse sobs began to echo in the suddenly silent living room.

Buffy had returned to the small room to question her Watcher about her mother's shocking revelation. She frowned at Mike's action. "Why did you do that?"

The soldier turned astonished blue-gray eyes toward the Slayer. "He deserves a little privacy, don't you think?"

She shook her head. "He deserves staking." She stated viciously then turned back to Giles. "You knew he visited her and you didn't tell me." She accused.

"I found out just the other day." He defended himself. "I'm appalled. I fail to understand how a woman as intelligent as your mother could so foolish."

Mike stared at the two of them. "After everything I've told you and everything you've heard here tonight, you still don't get it." He shook his head despairingly. He strode over and sat down on the coffee table facing the two on the sofa. He twisted his fingers together and stared at the floor for a few long seconds. "I get that you kill demons." He snorted. "Professor Walsh thinks that the Slayer is a myth. I heard some of the creatures they were holding talking about you and they were scared. Almost more scared of you than they were of us but that changed really fast when they got a good taste of her particular brand of hospitality." He chuckled dryly. "Not Spike though. Lord have mercy, the rants he'd go into when someone mentioned the slayer. But then he'd get really quiet like he was missing someone." He sighed heavily. "Sometimes after a 'training session' he'd be in his cell recovering from the drugs, experiments and torture, he'd talk in his sleep. I think I'm the only one who ever heard him, at least I hope so. Everyone else tended to ignore the captives. He wanted so badly to be out of there and safe. To Spike, safe meant here, safe meant home and home meant Joyce. I didn't know who Joyce was until tonight. He's not an ordinary demon. He's more human than most of the humans I've worked with the past ten months. You _heard_ what they did to him. It turns my stomach to think of it. They have to be stopped."

"All I heard was a bunch of words that could mean anything. I don't get it. You've seen the kinds of monsters out there. They're a threat to humans. An organization that gets these things off the streets is all of the good to me." Buffy stated stubbornly.

Mike growled in frustration and shoved his fingers through his hair roughly. "Try to get this through your bleached brain. Not all demons are bad just like not all humans are good. How many times have you watched the news about supposedly ensouled humans committing the worst atrocities imaginable? Hitler was human and had a soul. You _did_ study the Holocaust, right? So many of them." He shook his head sadly as he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the table he sat on. "Did you know that the origins of the Initiative go back as far as the Nazis? As far as I'm concerned the people running the current version are far worse than that. Back then, it was all about vampires. What if they decide that certain humans are a threat? What if they find out that witches are real? Witches _are_ human, aren't they? Do they deserve to be drugged and tortured?"

"**_No_**." Xander yelped as he and Drusilla entered the room. He'd heard Mike's last three questions. "Buffy, listen to him. Giles was right. What if they decide to do that to you or Willow? Where would it stop?"

"What they are doing is wrong." Drusilla floated in after Xander. She smiled at Michael. "Have they been nice to you, my Pretty?" She cooed. "My thrall wore off. You are a strong one. So much like my William."

"I've been getting that a lot tonight." The soldier observed wryly. He smiled up the lovely vampire who'd turned his life upside down.

Dru beamed at him. "As you should. You share his spark." She closed her eyes and swayed slightly.

"Share his spark?" Mike asked with a slight frown. "I don't understand."

"Burning baby fishes, swimming round and round. They don't see, don't understand. So smart, beautiful flame. My William was brilliant, my dark knight." She opened her eyes and looked deep into Mike's smoky depths. "I will not make the same mistake with you. I see your spark and it's wonderful. I will not extinguish it."

The puzzled soldier nodded hesitantly. "Okay. Um, thank you, I guess." He glanced around at the others. "Anybody know what she's talking about?" Blank stares met his query. "Uh-huh." He grimaced as he brought his gaze back to Drusilla. "What do we do now?"

"It is time to rest. William is in good hands. Mum will help begin his healing." Dru smiled as she ran her hand down Mike's arm.

Buffy blinked and looked around; just then realizing her mother was still in the basement with Spike. "What do you mean by that?" She pulled out her stake. "Did you leave Mom down there for him to kill?"

A trill of laughter spilled from Dru's ruby lips. "No, silly Slayer. Spike would never hurt her. She is home." She pinned Giles with her knowing gaze. "You will take us back to your house." She commanded.

**Downstairs….**

Joyce rocked Spike gently as he shook in her arms. She carded the fingers of one hand through his hair over and over as she held him tightly with her other arm. Nearly ten minutes later, his shudders eased and he tried to pull away. She tightened her grip. "No. Stay right where you are. I need to hold you a little longer." She blinked when that last slipped out. She hadn't meant to say it out loud. She felt him nod under her fingertips. They sat quietly for several more minutes.

"Are you hungry?" She asked softly, not wanting to speak too loudly. He shook his head against her shoulder. He was, it seemed as if he was always hungry, but just didn't want to move. "Okay." She said. She rested her cheek on his tousled head as she let her hand slip through his hair to rest on the side of his neck. She could feel the tremors that continued to course intermittently through his too-thin body. "I'm so sorry." Joyce murmured sadly into his curls.

"Not your fault." His unneeded breath hitched as he relaxed further into her embrace.

She shivered on the cold floor. "I know you like your corner but can we move to the cot?" He nodded and shifted away to allow her to get up. She moved the tray back to the chair and pushed the pillow against the wall, using it to cushion her back. As soon as she got settled, she held her arms out in invitation. He barely hesitated before resuming his prior position. They sat that way for long minutes before he began to feel the effects of his emotional storm. She felt rather than saw him yawn against her neck. His drooping eyelashes tickled her skin.

"Are you sleepy, Honey?" She kept her voice quiet and gentle.

"Yeah." The weary word was halfway between a whisper and a sigh.

She smiled softly, then pressed a light kiss on the top of his head. "Then go to sleep. I've got you. You're safe."

_**TBC**_


	14. Safe Demon

Safe Demon

Disclaimer: I can't begin to list the things I don't own, these guys would be at the top of it though.

Summary: He feels safe, is he?

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Yay! My muse, my partner and my favorite sounding board is back! Missed you so much, WayWard Childe!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Buffy closed the door wearily behind her Watcher, Drusilla and Michael. She leaned on it for a moment before turning to face Xander. Willow descended the stairs quietly.

"Is Dawnie asleep?" Buffy asked the redhead.

Willow nodded. "Had to do a tiny calming spell on her but her homework is done and she's sleeping."

"Good." The Slayer sighed. "One thing I _don't_ have to worry about."

"Where did everyone go?" The witch asked, gazing around.

"Giles took Drusilla and Michael over to his house. Mom is in the basement vamp-sitting." Buffy frowned as she explained. She still wasn't certain just when she lost control of the situation. Suddenly she wasn't so sure she'd ever had it. The trio moved over to sit on the sofa with Xander sandwiched between his two best friends. He rested his head on the cushion in abrupt exhaustion.

Buffy swung her gaze around to rest on him. "Just what did you think you were doing down there?" The question held no heat, only a weary annoyance.

"Helping. I figure that's why she wanted me down there in the first place." Xander answered her without moving or opening his eyes.

"Xan? What _did_ you do?" Willow quavered, scanning him for injuries.

"Nothing." He told her, attempting to downplay his impulsive reassurance of the vampire.

"Convinced psycho vamp that he was safe here." Buffy sneered.

The witch's eyes rounded. "Really? How?"

Xander waved a hand in the air lazily. "He was terrified every time I went down there because I apparently look like something called a 'punisher'. I just made him realize that I wasn't one. He broke down in Joyce's arms." He shivered. "I _never_ want to see _that_ again."

"He did _what_?" Buffy's green eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Oh come on, Buff, you heard on the monitor." Xander chided her wearily.

"Actually, no, I didn't. Michael turned it off." She told him acidly.

Willow looked at the silent monitor. "Shouldn't we turn it back on?" She suggested hesitantly. She reached over to the white plastic device and switched it back on.

Buffy tensed as she realized there was still no sound coming from the basement.

**Downstairs….**

Spike twitched in his sleep as he sank deeper into the nightmare.

_The table his naked body was strapped to was cold. He'd long ago gotten used to the discomfort. The drugs that tainted the blood he was forced to consume for his survival made his limbs sluggish while allowing him to feel everything that was being done to his motionless body. The voice he'd learned to dread sounded somewhere behind him. "I see you still haven't learned. Maybe more… stringent lessons are in order." Maggie Walsh commented maliciously. Her next command had his muscles tensing. With supreme will, he kept all expression from his face. A sharp pain stabbed into his abdomen. 'Ahhhh.' He thought. 'We get to see if the internal organs she removed have grown back. Let's find out if the remaining ones function or is he dead inside.' He'd heard her muttering those questions days earlier when she'd begun this particular experiment. He could have told her the answers had she deigned to ask but she was of the opinion that he was devoid of any intelligence. He just knew that if he never heard the word 'Scalpel' again in his unlife it would be a blessing._

_He felt his mind skitter to the safe place behind the psychological barriers he'd learned to erect. _

_Behind the massive mental wall he'd built, he settled into a chair at the table that stood in the center of the Summers' kitchen. He smiled up at Joyce as she placed the bag of mini-marshmallows in front of him. She watched indulgently as he added more of the sweet treat to his cup until the hot chocolate more resembled chocolate flavored marshmallow cream. He had the feeling that his consciousness would soon retreat to this place and refuse to return. His demon would then be wholly in control and he would not remember. That thought was… soothing. _

Joyce instinctively let go of the overly thin man in her arms as he began to tremble. She watched helplessly as he bolted from the cot and retreated to his corner. He pressed his back into the wall, hunched there and pulled up his t-shirt. He began poking at his torso frantically, muttering to himself. "Have to put them back in. Can't heal until you do." He glanced around in a panic. "Shhhh. Have to be quiet. She'll hear you. Monster. Loves causing pain. Sadistic bitch." He prodded himself a little more before he folded his hands protectively over his abdomen. "Almost done. Have to heal. Not enough blood. Too slow." He whimpered as he slid down to sit on the floor. "Want to go _home_."

Lost in his memories, he wasn't aware of the horrified woman mere inches away from him on the tiny cot. Moving very carefully, she eased off the bed. Holding her breath, she approached the vampire. "Will, honey, you _are_ home." She told him gently.

He started and gasped. He gulped in another deep unneeded breath. His tousled head started to shake. "Not real. Imagining _her_ again. Bloody bitch playing with your mind, pillock." A growl shuddered through his slender frame. "Fucking monster. Want to **_kill_** her. Decorate _that_ _room_ with her entrails." He muttered as he began to rock.

Joyce closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. 'You can do this, Joyce.' She told herself. She shook her blonde head determinedly, forcing her eyes dry. Anger flashed through her. They had already covered this. He needed to wake up and realize he was out of that place. "William." She snapped. "Wake _up_!"

Spike jumped at the sudden command, jerking into complete wakefulness immediately. He cowered at the anger on her lovely face before it melted away and soft concern replaced it. He swallowed as he warily watched her expression change. "What happened?" He asked huskily.

**Upstairs…**

The friends froze in horror as the plastic speaker spilled the sound of Spike's nightmare. The implications of his muttering sickened them.

"Put them back in? Heal? Oh my Goddess, what did they do to him?" Willow whispered, her huge eyes shimmering with tears.

Xander swallowed the lump - that he would deny to his dying day – that had developed in his throat. "Nothing good." He answered after he was sure he could do so without choking.

Buffy scowled. "Why is my Mom calling him 'Honey'?" She asked angrily.

"I really didn't stop to ask." Xander told her sardonically.

"Xan, this is serious! That's my _Mom_ down there with a killer." Buffy charged up from the sofa and headed for the kitchen. Xander and Willow followed hot on her heels.

**Downstairs….**

Joyce sat sideways on the cot so she could face him. "You had a nightmare." She said gently. She picked up one of the cooled bags of blood and held it out to him. He flinched slightly before extending a trembling hand out to take it. He turned away as his demon visage came forward. He poked a tiny hole in the plastic to test it and grimaced at the bitter taste of the cold animal blood. Giving in to his hunger, he drained it. Shifting back to his human features he dropped the empty plastic onto the floor. Joyce reached over to the tray and shifted it to the end of the cot within easy reach. Both of them looked up as Buffy clattered down the stairs.

"Buffy? Are you all right? What's wrong? Is Dawn all right?" Joyce asked the questions quickly, startling her oldest daughter.

"What? No. It's you. He's dangerous." Buffy sputtered loudly.

Joyce frowned as Spike huddled deeper into his corner. A low growl sounded from the thin figure.

"Mom. Get away from him." Buffy pulled a stake out of her pocket.

"No." The older woman remained in place. "Spike, calm down." She addressed the vampire.

Golden eyes glared at the slayer as the growl continued to rumble in his chest. Joyce picked up another packet of blood. "Here, if you're going to look like that, be useful and eat." She instructed.

The glare turned on her but her face remained resolute. He reached out and grabbed the blood before she could pull it away. She merely smiled serenely at his actions.

Xander hung back, not surprised by the interaction between the two. Willow gaped at her best friend's mother. She put a hand on Xander's bicep. "Xan? What's going on?"

The male Scooby flashed her a quick conspiratorial smile. "They're friends." He told her quietly. "That's all I'm admitting to."

"Oh, I see." The redhead answered with a frown of confusion. Clearly she didn't.

Buffy glared at her friends. "Guys, this is serious."

Joyce scowled at her daughter. "Buffy. Calm down. You're scaring him." She admonished her daughter as she held out another packet of blood. She didn't watch but she smiled again when she felt the cool plastic leave her grasp.

"_I'm _scaring_ him_?" The Slayer squeaked incredulously.

"Yes." Joyce said calmly. "Go back upstairs. I'll be up in a few minutes."

"But…" Buffy stuttered.

"Go." The stern tone brooked no further argument. The petite blonde huffed out an exasperated breath and spun on her heel to storm up the stairs. Xander followed hoping to talk to her a little more.

Willow watched the blonde as she retreated. Hesitantly moving closer to the cot, she gazed at the feeding vampire with huge sad eyes. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Hostile golden eyes glared at her from the corner. "_Witch_." He hissed.

Joyce's kind hazel gaze turned to Spike. "Hush, Sweetie. Willow only wants to help." She crooned. She moved over to kneel in front of her friend. She ran soothing fingers over his ridged forehead. His eyes fluttered closed as he relaxed. A rumble began to replace the growl.

Willow's already wide eyes seemed to expand into anime dimensions. "Is he… purring?" She gasped softly.

The older woman shrugged. "I don't know. Don't think I'd want to use that word directly to him." Humor sparkled in her lovely eyes for the first time in several hours.

Both females watched as his ridges receded under the gentle caress of Joyce's fingers. With a sudden sigh, Spike's two toned head thumped against the wall as he dropped into sleep.

"Oh no." Joyce murmured. She rose from her crouch and moved the tray of blood from the bed. "Spike. Wake up. You need to get on the bed. Come on, Honey. You'll be more comfy on the bed." She grasped the vampire's lax hand and tugged on his arm. With a cranky grumble, he woke up enough to allow her to shift him onto the dubious comfort of the cot. It didn't take her long to get him settled.

Silently, the two women left the sleeping demon in peace.

**Upstairs….**

Xander followed Buffy back into the living room, wisely staying out of her way as she stomped across the floor. He ducked his head as he thought about the best way to say what he wanted. "Um… Buff? What is it exactly are you having a problem with? I totally understand that he's the last person you'd want your mom to be friends with but… I mean… she is all grown up and all. Don't you think she can choose her own friends?"

The petite blonde rounded on him furiously. "You can't be _friends_ with a _vampire_!" She growled.

The male Scooby frowned. Sometimes her attitude grated. Sure, he hated vampires. But sometimes it just seemed that her prejudice went just a little too deep. Not to mention a tiny bit hypocritical given her relationship with Angel. "Not to sound too much like a broken record but can I just say one word?"

Buffy spun around and glared at him. "What?"

"Angel." Xander spat, bitter venom coloring his words. "You were such good _friends_ with Angel that you couldn't kill him until after he'd terrorized us all."

The Slayer sniffed. "Angel's different. You know that. He has a soul." She blinked when her friend growled.

"A soul." Xander gritted. "Is nothing more than a four letter word. I know for a fact that a soul does not make a person automatically good. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that Angel wasn't all that good when he was human. I don't know what Spike was like before he was turned but if he treats your Mom with the respect she says he does, then there's something different about him. Maybe growing up in the Victorian era makes a difference."

Buffy stared at him in blatant disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

Joyce and Willow had come into the room while Xander was trying to make his point. "What he's talking about is that William is a gentleman to those he gives his affection to. Did you know he was loyal to Drusilla for a hundred years?"

Her daughter blinked at the tangent her mother had taken. The training that she'd undergone with Giles didn't allow for concepts like they were trying to tell her. "Mom, try to understand. Spike is a vampire. I am a vampire slayer. I have a vague idea why Giles wants to help that thing down there but I don't know why you're so determined to keep him around."

"No, Buffy." Joyce's voice was stern. "_You_ don't understand. He is my friend. You will not touch him for any reason. He has given me and Dawn his protection from the demon community. Giles tells me that is a good thing. I'm only going to tell you this one more time and the subject is closed. Spike is _off_ the kill list."

Joyce studied her daughter's stunned face for a moment. "I see you've got it. I'm tired. I'm going to bed." She grabbed the monitor from the table and swept up the stairs.

Uncomfortable silence reigned for several seconds. "Well, think I'll be hitting the basement." Xander babbled. "I mean, that would be my basement at home. The old sofa bed might be lumpy but it's bed." He stretched and yawned. "Yup, going on home now."

Willow nodded. "Me, too with the going home now."

Buffy dug a few stakes out of her weapons chest. "I'll go with you. I should do another quick patrol. I need to kill _something_. I'm sure I can find a vamp or two that's still on the kill list." Sarcasm dripped from her voice as she sent a quick glare up the stairs.

**Later…**

Buffy wandered listlessly around the park near the college campus. She'd made sure Xander and then Willow had gotten home safely before deciding to patrol. The park had seen a small upsurge of vampiric activity before suddenly dropping to almost none. Now it seemed that her competition was the military and they were conducting experiments on the demons they captured. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Her job was to just kill the bad guys and be done with it. This Initiative thing needed further investigation. She was having a hard time believing that Riley was part of it. He was so nice, so _normal_. It wasn't so hard to imagine that Professor Walsh was in charge of something so science fiction. Buffy shuddered. She didn't like the Professor. Her treatment of Willow after Oz's departure had rankled. It certainly seemed like something the cold hearted woman would be a part of.

Buffy started when a vampire burst out of the bushes next to the bench she'd unconsciously sat down on during her musing. The panic stricken bloodsucker stopped as he spotted her.

"Slayer." He hissed through his fangs.

"Slayee." She answered as she flung a stake into his chest. The demon looked almost relieved. She frowned at the expression on the thin, quickly disintegrating face. Her confusion was alleviated seconds later when Riley and another guy his age burst through the bushes from the direction the vamp had appeared.

"Riley!" Buffy yelped in surprise.

"Hey, Buffy." Riley glanced around; checking to make sure his team remained hidden. He wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead from the exertion of shedding the most obvious parts of his uniform. He smiled down at her. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

The Slayer shrugged. "Just thinking. My mom's picked up a new boyfriend and I don't really like him. She's being a bit unreasonable about it."

"Well, she is old enough to make her own decisions." The soldier tried to appear calm, just another guy out for a walk. He wasn't sure he was being very convincing. With a mental shrug, he decided he was off duty for the night. "Hey, Graham, why don't you tell the guys I can't make it to the card game? I'm gonna see if Buffy will let me escort her home."

The other guy nodded tersely but paused before he left. "Okay, Ri but don't you have papers to grade?" Silently trying to remind the team leader that Professor Walsh would expect a status report on her missing Hostile.

"I know but I can get them later. First class is late tomorrow. There's plenty of time." Riley smiled at his friend, willing him to leave quickly.

Graham nodded and left but was clearly unhappy about it. Buffy noticed the other guy's expression and wondered what soldierly duties Riley was blowing off.

Riley extended his elbow and after a second of deliberation, Buffy took his arm and turned them in the direction of her house. They walked in silence for a while. Buffy didn't know quite what to say without letting on that she knew his secret and Riley because he wanted to ask her out again but didn't know how.

Riley noticed that she was leading them away from the campus. "I thought you lived in the dorms." He remarked curiously.

"I do but I had to move back home for a little while. Mom has a problem she needs my help with." Buffy prevaricated.

"The new boyfriend?" Riley asked.

"Uh, yeah." The Slayer nodded slowly.

"Do you want me to have a word with him?" The soldier offered as they strolled up the sidewalk leading to Buffy's house.

"No. That's okay. Mom will see sense soon and break it off." Buffy assured him.

"If you're sure…" He hesitated as they drew to a stop at the base of the stairs.

Buffy smiled up at him. "I'm sure."

"Well, in that case. Will you go out with me? How about a picnic? Tomorrow on the college common?" Riley's hazel eyes pleaded with her to say yes.

The blonde nodded enthusiastically. "It's a date." She gazed up at him with a clear invitation in her green eyes.

His head dipped slowly, giving her room to refuse. "Yeah, a date." He breathed as his lips closed over hers.

Several long kisses later, they parted. With Buffy going slowly into her house as she watched him walk backwards up the sidewalk.

In the basement, Spike twitched in his sleep as a cold sensation rippled across his skin and his hard won feeling of safety faded as memories disguised as dreams tormented his already fractured mind.


	15. Demonic Relativity

Demonic Relativity

Disclaimer: I want Spike for Christmas.

Summary: A discussion, a date, a dream and a warning.

Reviews: I know I don't deserve them considering the lateness of this chapter but if I beg? Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: As this is an AU season four, we are assuming that 'Pangs' and 'Something Blue' did not happen. Other episodes may or may not be used as you will see later in this chapter. This is for those who wanted to know what was going on over at Giles' house. I humbly beg forgiveness from all those still interested in this fic and offer it to you for Christmas. (holds out chapter tentatively, straightening straggly bow) Umm…. Merry Christmas?

As always thank you to WayWard Childe for his invaluable input. (holds up mistletoe hopefully)

To everyone: I wish that you all have a very Joyous Holiday Season.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Giles' house, Tuesday, mid-morning…. **

The first thing Mike noticed when he woke up was that he was not in his room at the fraternity house. The second was that there was a dead body in the bed next to him. Oddly enough he was more disturbed by the first thing than the second. Cautiously, he eased his way out of the queen size bed. His companion stirred as the mattress shifted.

"Pretty? Where are you going?" Drusilla's sleepy voice sounded from under the mound of blankets.

"Human here. Nature calls." Michael told her humorously. "Then I figure I'll see if Mr. Giles has some civvies for me to wear."

"You won't leave me?" She asked as she rolled over, peering at him from the covers.

"No, Ma'am. I'm not leaving." The soldier assured her.

"There's a good pet." There was no more as the vampire drifted back to sleep.

Michael wasted no time in slipping his uniform pants on over his khaki boxers. He topped it with the matching t-shirt, leaving his uniform shirt hanging over a nearby chair. He left his combat boots sitting where he'd placed them by the door, preferring to walk around barefoot.

Downstairs, Giles heard the water running in the bathroom upstairs and got out an empty cup. He didn't know if the American would want coffee or if he'd share tea with his host. He settled back into his chair at the table and resumed checking the newspaper for stories of suspicious deaths that might require further investigation by the Slayer.

Michael walked into the small kitchen a few minutes later, silent on bare feet. "Good morning, Mr. Giles."

"Good morning, Michael. Did you sleep well?" The Watcher answered.

The dark blond head tilted in consideration. "Oddly enough I did." He admitted with a surprised smile.

Giles nodded and rose. "Would you like coffee or tea?" He picked up the empty cup.

"Whatever you have already made." Mike told him agreeably. "My mom, most of my family in fact, is allergic to coffee so I grew up drinking tea. I think I grew up in one of the few houses in America that didn't even _have_ a coffee maker. I didn't know I could tolerate coffee until I joined the Army. Sometimes it's the only thing available that's halfway safe to drink." He chuckled at the bemusement on the older man's face. Taking the seat opposite of the one Giles had occupied, he accepted the cup of hot tea. He chuckled again at the disgust Giles displayed when he reached for the sugar bowl.

"Cretin." Giles muttered as he fetched a spoon.

"Don't I know it? But that's what happens when you grow up in the south." Mike grinned unrepentantly.

The older man resumed his seat and sipped his unsullied tea. "What's your ancestry?" He asked, jumping right into one of the things he was most curious about.

"German, English, Irish in huge doses and diluted by a bunch of other nationalities. My uncle did a family tree a while back. Frustrated the life out of him." Mike answered.

Giles frowned. "Really? Why was that?"

Mike shrugged. "There were a couple of dead ends. People he couldn't find out what happened to. They just dropped off the face of the earth." He frowned as he remembered something odd. "Both of them in the same year. He hates it when he can't make all the dots connect. Hazards of being ex-military, I guess. He likes when he can answer all the questions."

"Is it possible that you're related to Spike?" Giles wanted to know, again wasting no time jumping into what he wanted to know.

"I've discovered that anything is possible with the right circumstances." Mike tilted his head in yet another eerily Spike-like gesture. "Do you have any idea how _odd_ it is to see your _face_ on a vampire? What amazes me is that not one person in the Initiative saw it. That little girl last night spotted it right away."

"That was Dawn. She and Spike appear to be friends." The Watcher frowned at the thought.

"And that bothers you." Mike observed perceptively.

"Yes, frankly, it does." Giles nodded. "I'm a Watcher for a Vampire Slayer. Our job is to rid the world of vampires and demons. Not become friends with them." A frown crossed his handsome face. "Although that didn't stop her from falling in love with a vampire. Nothing about this assignment has been what I would term _normal_."

Mike choked on the sip of tea he'd just taken. "In _love_ with a vampire? You have _got_ to be _kidding_ me!"

With a chagrined expression, Giles rose to open the refrigerator. "Well, he did have a soul…" He began.

A snort sounded from the soldier. "And we all know how important _that_ is." He stated sarcastically. "Considering her attitude towards Spike, that was the _last_ thing I expected you to tell me."

"Indeed." The noncommittal word amused Mike. "Are you hungry?" Giles turned to his guest with a small carton of eggs in his hand.

"Starving." The younger man nodded emphatically. He got up. "Here, let me help." He reached for the egg carton with an encouraging smile. "Do you have a frying pan with a lid, some cheese and a bit of ham? How about some omelets?"

"You cook?" Rupert asked, astonished.

The dark blond head nodded as he assembled the ingredients provided by his bemused host. "Momma always said that a man needed to be able to take care of himself. She made sure I could cook, wash clothes, do a little mending if I need to and clean. But the last bit I'm not overly fond of." He admitted with an embarrassed grin. He turned the stove to his preferred temperature and placed the frying pan on it. "I need a bowl, a fork and some butter."

Rupert watched as the soldier made himself at home in his kitchen. With quick, economical movements, Mike had the eggs cooking on almost no time. He layered cheese and ham onto the circle of scrambled eggs, turned the heat down low and covered the pan. He resumed his seat and picked up his cup amusement apparent in his bright blue/gray gaze. "You still have questions." He observed placidly.

Giles nodded as he took another sip of tea. He grimaced and rose to refill the teapot so he could boil some more water. "Where did you grow up? You mentioned being from the south?"

Mike returned to the stove and lifted the lid on the pan. He turned slightly towards his host. "Got a plate?" Accepting the offered china, he slid the perfectly turned omelet onto it before slipping it into the oven he'd preheated to keep the first one hot while he made the second one. Mere minutes later he had another omelet in the pan. A flip of the switch stopped the whistling teapot and the soldier returned to the table to leave room for Giles to make the tea. Mike added sugar to his tea under the disapproving eye of the older man. Just when Giles was beginning to believe his questions would go unanswered, Mike began speaking again.

"I grew up in the Ozark Mountains in the southwestern part of Missouri. My mom pretty much raised me on her own. My dad took a hike when I was little. My uncle is retired military, ex-special forces, and still has contacts higher up but that didn't help when I asked for a transfer out of this nightmare assignment. The only person he's scared of is my aunt. Until I was stationed here, the most demonic thing I'd ever seen in my life was that old mule my uncle wouldn't get rid of. You already know how I got through school. Anything else?" Mike grinned as he rose to tip the second omelet out of the pan. He brought the plates to the table as Giles fetched silverware from the drawer.

A rueful smile crossed Rupert's handsome face. "Actually, quite a lot but that will do for now." He tasted his breakfast. "This is wonderful."

They ate silently for several minutes. Mike placed his fork on his plate with a sigh and finished his tea. He reached across the table and snagged the Watcher's discarded newspaper. Army training had him finishing long before his host so he scanned the headlines of the paper.

Giles watched his guest as he quietly read the newspaper. He found himself wondering just how it had come about that he was playing host to not only a not-quite-sane female Master Vampire but an absent-without-leave soldier. He tilted his head as he considered the man across the table. This person had nearly vampiric reaction speed and compassion for all creatures but belonged to a rigidly structured organization that preyed on everything considered nonhuman. He noticed with amusement that the headlined stories got no more than a cursory glance before the younger man flipped through to the comics section. He swallowed the last bite of the delicious omelet and rose to pick up both plates in order to carry them to the sink.

"So, Michael, have you decided what you're going to do now? Is it possible for you to return to the Army?" Giles questioned as he returned to the table.

Mike refolded the paper and returned it to Rupert's side of the table. He frowned as he thought about his current lack of options. "I can't go back to the Initiative, that's for sure. There's no way in Hell I can wander around town looking the way I do. I was wondering if you'd have any civvies that I could borrow."

"Civvies? I don't understand." Giles frowned.

Mike ran an elegant finger up and down the side of his nose with an abashed smile. "Sorry, been speaking 'Army' so long I slipped. Would you happen to have any non-military clothing I could wear?" He frowned. "I should do something about my hair and…" He trailed off, deep in thought. "I have an idea. What do you think?" He started talking, his accent deepening as his idea gelled.

Giles listened for a few minutes before beginning to laugh. "That just might work."

**Initiative Labs…..**

Riley wasn't sure which he preferred, the furious clipboard throwing rage of the other day or today's icy anger. He stood at attention hoping with all his might that his impatience to be out of there and getting ready for his date with Buffy didn't show on his face. A sneaky glance at his boss assured him that she was fairly unaware of his distraction. He tried hard not to blink when she suddenly stopped right in front of him.

"Am I to understand that you have no idea where the missing soldier is? My missing hostile is still missing? And you haven't a clue who the civilians were that seemed to know my missing hostile? Am I correct?" Maggie Walsh hissed her questions out mere inches from Riley's face.

"Um, no Ma'am. I don't have any new information for you." Riley admitted reluctantly. "I have doubled the patrols and given them instructions to be as low key as possible. We don't want to lose any more to the vampire that's been feeding on our men. I hope to have news by tomorrow morning."

"This situation needs to be contained." Walsh turned away and picked up a file. "Do you have any idea who Private Caden is related to?"

Riley frowned in confusion. "Related, Ma'am?"

"I found out after he disappeared that Private Caden's uncle is retired Army with connections in some of the highest departments in the service. They can _not_ be allowed to find out that he has gone missing. He should have _never_ been chosen for this assignment. I told them I wanted soldiers with no outside connections." She thumped the clipboard back down on the desk. "This situation is getting out of control." She turned back to Riley. "By tomorrow morning I want to have either Private Caden in front of me ready for reprogramming or his body in the morgue ready to be shipped back to his family after his 'car accident'. We don't have any reason to believe that he's been turned since none of the others that were been bitten have risen as vampires. Believe me, I've been keeping an eye on the bodies."

Riley gulped at the callousness of her statements. Silently he vowed to find the missing man and make him sorry he'd caused so much trouble.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Go out and **_find_** **_him_**!" The last two words were shrieked as her control snapped again. Riley Finn wasted no time at all getting out of her sight, not bothering to find out exactly which 'him' she was referring to this time.

**Later, mid-afternoon…**

Buffy leaned back onto the blanket that had been spread out underneath a large leafy tree in the campus common area and simply let herself enjoy the feeling of being outside in the daylight away from all the nasty things that go bump in the night. Riley watched as the infrequent bursts of sunshine lit highlights in her long hair. He was lounging on his side propped up on one elbow with his feet crossed at the ankles. He was trying very hard to forget his impossible assignment and concentrate of the lovely girl opposite him.

"You look tired. Why don't you lie down and take a nap. I'll keep watch." Riley suggested as he reached over and smoothed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She looked over at him and smiled. She was having a very hard time associating this seemingly kind, considerate, _normal_ man with the torture that had been inflicted on Spike. But she was willing to give Riley the benefit of a doubt and adopt a wait and see attitude. She scooted over to his side of the blanket and sighed as he tugged her closer. He gazed down as she closed her eyes and appeared to immediately doze off.

_Buffy looked around in the unfamiliar room. She gazed around taking in the shelves of what appeared to be occult merchandise and books. A small counter stood off to one side with an older model cash register on one end. A large round table with matching chairs sat opposite of the counter in front of a set of open work stairs that appeared to lead to another area full of bookshelves. She frowned and tried to remember what she'd been doing before arriving in this place. She could hear a very faint humming and spun around trying to pinpoint the location of the sound. A circular step up leading to the door caught her attention. As she watched the door swung open and a little girl about eleven or twelve walked through. She was blonde and pretty. Her innocent face was tense with concentration as she carefully carried a small ornately carved box in both hands. She was the source of the humming. As Buffy watched, the girl raised her head and stared straight at the Slayer. The older blonde tilted her head and tried to make out the words as the girl began to sing softly. _

_**"Can't even shout**_

_**Can't even cry**_

_**The gentlemen are coming by**_

_**looking in windows**_

_**knocking on doors**_

_**They need to take seven**_

_**and they might take yours**_

_**Can't call to mom**_

_**can't say a word**_

**_You're gonna die screaming but you won't be heard" _**

_As Buffy watched, the little girl finished her song for the second time and stared at the Slayer. No, stared _past_ the Slayer. As soon as she realized that the little girl was looking at something behind her, Buffy whirled around. A trickle of cold fear slid down her spine as she faced a tall, thin demon with dead white skin, extra long fingers and dressed in severe black suits. A wide toothy grin graced his hideous face. She opened her mouth to scream and…… _

Riley was startled when the girl at his side shot up with a gasp. He frowned as Buffy looked around wildly for a few seconds.

"Buffy? Are you all right?" He asked anxiously.

The blonde blinked at him owlishly a couple of times before she realized it had been a slayer dream and she _really_ needed to find Giles. "I'm sorry. I have to go home." She began to gather her belongings.

"What's wrong?" The soldier rose and extended his hand to help her up.

"I'm really sorry but I forgot that I promised my mom I'd get home early to help her… um… find something in the basement." She finally finished lamely. She straightened out her skirt and avoided looking up into Riley's hazel eyes.

"Can I walk you home?" He offered as he gathered up the blanket and folded it with quick efficient movements.

Unaccustomed panic flared through the girl. "Oh no!" She yelped. She inhaled and smiled up at him beguilingly. "It's ok, I'll be all right." She slipped her hand around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "Thank you for the picnic. It was very nice."

Riley grinned. "No problem. When can I see you again?"

A slight frown marred her forehead. "I don't know. I'll see you in class tomorrow?"

The soldier pouted but realized it was probably for the best. He really needed to get some progress made on finding the missing Hostile and the AWOL Private. "Yeah, I'll be there. We're supposed to go over test questions so no napping." He winked at her.

A giggle escaped as she turned to walk away. "I'll do my best."

**Late evening, Giles' house….**

To say that Giles was surprised when Drusilla absolutely refused to leave the house that evening would have been a vast understatement. The Watcher and Michael both watched as she closed her eyes and swayed gently. She sang softly but it was not a song either man had heard before. She surveyed them with glittering blue eyes, her gaze resting on Mike for more than a few long moments.

The former soldier shifted under her perusal. "Miss Drusilla, don't you need to feed?" He asked quietly. "Aren't you going to visit Spike tonight?"

"No, my Pretty. I have fed well the past few days and have no need to do so every day. My lovely Spike will be fine where he is. They do not want his. But Mum must be warned. Tell them." She turned to Giles. "Tell them all to keep the doors locked and closed, Watcher. They are here." With that warning, she swept regally up the stairs, leaving the humans gazing after her in bemusement.

Mike turned to his host. "Do I _want_ to know what she means by "_You're gonna die screaming but you won't be heard_"?

Rupert returned his glasses to his face, freshly cleaned and walked over to an over-stuffed bookcase. "No, I don't think you do but I'm afraid we have no choice but to try to find out." He removed several books and handed two of them to Mike.

**Early Wednesday morning, Summers basement….**

Spike blinked awake and rubbed his eyes. He frowned as his chains clanked in the intense stillness of the basement. He peered around the room trying to determine what had caused him to wake up. With a shrug, he hitched his blanket back up to his shoulders and turned his back to the wall. A sense of unease trickled down his spine as his eyelashes fluttered closed and he drifted back to sleep.

**_TBC_**


	16. Hushed Demon

Hushed Demon

Disclaimer: I own a Mike and a new (to me) Jeep.

Summary: Spike doesn't deal with being hushed very well.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: The 'Gentlemen Song' from the last chapter was a direct rip off from the original episode. In other words, it belongs to Joss and was used without permission.

An old fic of mine 'Spike's Angel' has been nominated at the Harem of Spike Awards. Hugs and kisses to the lovely who did it. **_Thank_** **_you_**! Whoever you are!

WayWard Childe: miss you Luv.

Communications chart:

'xx' - thoughts

"xx" - spoken words

#xx# - written notes

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

**Wednesday morning, Summers house….**

Joyce woke slowly and stretched languidly before throwing the covers aside. She frowned at the silence from monitor sitting on the bedside table and listened carefully for any indication that her vampire was awake. The faint clink of his chain as he shifted and the sound of his unnecessary breathing were all that she could hear. She smiled at the thought that he was still peacefully asleep. She didn't notice that the breathing was a little faster than it should have been. A quick check of the clock told her that she had time for a shower before needing to get the girls up for school.

A short time later, refreshed and dressed, Joyce picked up the monitor and went into the hall towards Dawn's room. She knocked on the door and called out to her youngest. No sound came from her mouth. Dawn's door swung open and the teenager rushed out with panic in her huge blue eyes. Joyce moved further down the hall and hammered on Buffy's still closed door. The Slayer yanked her door open almost immediately. The three of them stood in the hall frantically attempting to make each other understand what they were trying to say when Buffy's green eyes were drawn to the white plastic in her mother's hand. The unmistakable sound of panicked panting was emanating from the tiny speaker.

**In the basement….**

Spike felt that something was _wrong_. Frowning, he slowly sat up on his narrow cot and braced himself against the wall. He gazed around the brightly lit basement trying to see just what it was that was different from yesterday. Nothing _seemed_ to be amiss so he relaxed fractionally as he recalled the previous day. Joyce had been down to see him early in the morning to ply him with a pile of warmed blood bags. She'd returned to talk to him after her daughters had left for school. She'd told him that she'd taken an emergency leave from work in order to care for him because she felt she could do a better job of it than the Slayer and her friends. They had carefully avoided any in-depth discussion of his captivity.

The sound of his own voice had unnerved him a little but she'd been right there with a hug to reassure him it was quite all right to speak. The day had sped by after he'd succumbed to his vampiric nature and gone to sleep practically in mid-sentence. He'd been jarred awake late in the afternoon by Dawn clattering down the steps with a tray of blood in her hands and a fountain of gossip spilling from her lips. A smile crossed the vampire's handsome face as he remembered the slight shock of seeing the faint green sparks that flashed through the air around the teenager. He paused for a moment to wonder about that. He didn't remember seeing them _before_.

A shiver slid down his bony spine and he cast another searching look around the basement. This time his gaze landed on the sender to the baby monitor Joyce had shown him the previous night. She had told him that if he needed anything at all he merely needed to speak up and she'd hear him. She'd explained about the silencing spell on the basement but that she could hear everything with the monitor and that she had no intention of letting it out of her sight. He opened his mouth to ask quietly if she was awake and …. Nothing. Fear slid through his mind.

'What the _hell_?' He thought. He tried again with the same result. 'I _knew_ it.' He covered his face with his hands. 'See what happens when you trust _humans_? _Damn_ it, Spike. You _knew_ better. It was a trick. The slayer must have convinced Joyce that helping me is wrong.'

Another thought struck him and he began to shake. Had he finally gone mad? Had he dreamed all of it? Was he now living in a delusion engineered by **_those_** **_people_**? Had they been watching all this time? Allowing him to regain a small sense of safety only to yank him back to **_that_** **_place_** and begin again? Or were they _all_ in on it now? Had the influence of **_those_** **_people_** gotten so widespread that the Slayer and her group were now part of it? Had he imagined Drusilla?

His unnecessary breath sped up until he was panting nearly uncontrollably. His thoughts raced unchecked. One wild idea chased the next until he no longer knew what was real and what wasn't. He pressed both hands over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise as it echoed through the spacious basement. The clinking of his chains seemed extraordinarily loud to the panicking demon. He pulled his knees up to his chest and began to rock gently back and forth in a futile attempt to self-comfort. He kept his palms pressed firmly over his mouth. There was nothing that could keep the tears from spilling from his eyes. Desperately, he tried to shove his thought processes back into hiding so that when **_they_** came for him he'd be the mindless demon they'd wanted him to be.

It wasn't that easy. Now that he'd been allowed to be a faint shadow of his former self, his basic nature rebelled at returning to his submissive state. The thoughts he was trying so frantically to contain ran through his head like a runaway train on a downhill track.

'_Nononono. Can't go back, can't take it again. Have to find a way to dust myself first. Stop thinking, Spike. It'll go worse on you if you don't get it under control. Sodding slayer. Hate her. Want to **kill** her. **Stop** **thinking** you stupid git. Joyce, home, safe. No! Not safe. It wasn't **real**._' Horror filled his thin body when he heard footsteps on the stairs. '_**They're** **coming**_.'

Whoever it was descended slowly. His nerves stretched screamingly tight in an agony of anticipation. He squeezed his eyes even more tightly closed and pressed his palms that much harder over his mouth. He didn't want to see, didn't want to know. He tucked his elbows into his ribs in an attempt to become as small a target as possible. Scalding tears slipped down his thin face. Terror had him shaking from the top of his two toned head to the tips of his bare toes. The footsteps crossed the cement floor and stopped directly in front of him.

**Giles' apartment, a little later….**

The pounding on the door woke Giles as he and Michael had been up very late researching. The books were still open on the table with empty tea cups and small plates interspersed with the ancient texts. He pulled his t-shirt down over his sleep rumpled head as the door rattled in its hinges.

"Just a bloody minute!" He stopped with his hand on the doorknob in shock as he realized that he hadn't made a sound. The wood shook once more under the force of the knocking. He heard Mike running down the stairs and turned to wait for him.

Mike tilted his head and peered at the Watcher curiously. He raised a slender hand and pressed it to his throat. Opening his mouth, he tried to make a sound. He shook his head and lowered his hand. The renewed thundering on the door made them both jump and Giles, with a nod to Michael to stay back, slowly opened the door to admit his Slayer.

Buffy had detoured by Sunnydale University and collected Willow. The redhead carried a box filled with small dry erase boards with markers attached to one corner with string. A tiny eraser was velcroed to the bottom edge of each board. The blonde held up her board.

#I had a slayer dream yesterday. Guess I should have tried harder to find you.# The message was written in tiny letters in order to fit in the small square.

The Watcher grimaced and nodded. Willow handed him a board and he scribbled his reply.

#I was out helping Michael with his disguise.#

Both girls swung their gazes to the soldier waiting patiently to one side. He smiled at the blatant disbelief on their faces. He knew he'd managed to change his appearance considerably and, by their expressions, it had been an effective attempt. He ran one hand over his hair with an abashed smile. Willow held out one of the message boards for him to use. She wrote a quick note and held it up.

#What happened to you??#

He smirked and jotted down his answer. Giles was intensely curious to note that the younger man was left handed. A fact he hadn't noticed the night before during their extended research session.

#Some hair color, pair of contacts, nothing much. Is it ok?#

Both girls ran their eyes up and down the slender figure of Giles' guest. His smoky blue/gray eyes were now dark green. His hair had been dyed to a deep burgundy color and spiked. The gel that they'd put in it the previous day still holding firm taming the natural curl. He wore small diamond-like earrings in his previously unpierced ears. Instead of his uniform, he wore snug faded blue jeans with the knees ripped out and a tight black t-shirt. A chunky silver bracelet hung from his left arm and a watch attached to a studded black leather band encircled his right wrist. A heavy silver chain circled his neck. He looked nothing like the soldier they'd met the other night.

To Giles, it looked as if the younger man hadn't gone to bed as he looked much the same as he did when they'd said good night only a few hours ago. Michael looked over at the older man and quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. The squeak of marker on plastic drew both men's attention.

The girls had each written their reaction to Mike's transformation on their boards and were holding them up like Olympic judges.

#WOW!#

Mike blushed as he grinned. Uncomfortable with the attention, he used the miniature eraser to clear his board and scribbled another message. #What's a 'slayer dream'?#

Giles held up his hand before Buffy could try to squeeze her story onto the tiny board. He moved over to the table and sorted through the debris until he unearthed a pad of paper and a pen. He handed them to the Slayer and directed her to a chair at the table. Her pretty face twisted into a grimace but obeyed the silent order.

**Across town, Harris basement…..**

Xander was pulled from his restless sleep by a hand shaking his shoulder roughly. He opened his hazy eyes to see his new girlfriend Anya; her dark brown eyes were wide and panicked. He sat up and grasped her shoulders to still her frantic movements. He could see her trying to speak but nothing was coming out of her mouth. He frowned.

"What's wrong?" He tried to say but, as with Anya, no sound came from his mouth. A chill of fear crept down his spine. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight, running his hand up and down her back soothingly. When she'd calmed down a little, he allowed her to back off until she was sitting on her heels several inches away. Her frightened eyes remained fixated on his face as he tried to think. He could see her continuing her efforts to say something so he gently placed a finger over her lips, stilling their movements. He gazed around the sparsely furnished basement searching for … there, on the end table next to the phone where he'd left it, was a pad of paper and a pencil. He pointed at it and raised his eyebrow inquiringly. Her huge eyes followed his gaze. She frowned for a bare second before lunging across the sofa bed to snatch the items from the table. Quickly she scrawled a note.

#What's going on?#

Xander gave her a look that said more clearly than writing. _I've no clue_. But took the pad and pencil from her and replied.

#I don't know. Need to get you to Giles's.#

Biting her lip in consternation, Anya took back the paper to write again.

#What about you?#

She handed the items back and he wrote for a few minutes before returning them.

#I should go see if Mrs. Summers needs help with Spike.#

He'd filled the ex-demon in on the developments of the past few days the night before. His biggest concern was keeping her safe from the Initiative. It was one of the reasons he'd insisted she stay the night. He didn't want to consider what they would want to do to someone who'd been a thousand year old demon. Her eyes widened even further as she nodded.

Xander gently but firmly pushed her off the bed, got up and handed her the blouse that had landed on the lounger a few feet away. Neither of them liked the unnatural silence that encompassed the dingy room so they dressed as quickly as possible. In just a few minutes they left to meet up with the rest of the Scoobies.

**Summers basement….**

Spike huddled on his cot and waited, trembling, for harsh hands to grab him and drag him away from the safety he'd been foolish enough believe he'd found. He could hear the human in front of him breathing. He kept his forehead buried in his knees and his hands pressed firmly against his mouth. There was nothing he could do the prevent the tears that were pouring down the sides of his face so he settled for keeping his eyes squeezed closed and hoping they would send him into unconsciousness before the punishment became too horrific.

He jumped badly when fingers ghosted across the platinum tips of his curls. Slender fingers slid softly over his head to the back of his neck to curl against his skin. A shudder wracked his thin body. Another hand tucked a wayward strand of hair behind his ear and he felt the fingers of it trail along his jaw. A firm, persistent pressure under his chin tipped his face up. The first hand moved from his neck to his wrist and tugged gently, trying to pull his hands away. He gave only a token resistance before obeying the unspoken command. Warm fingers brushed the tears from his upturned face and a soft kiss was pressed onto his forehead. His eyes popped open in shocked reaction to the kiss. Joyce's concerned face hovered inches from his own. She smiled soothingly and brushed her fingers across one damp cheekbone. He blinked at the tender expression on her lovely face.

A new set of footsteps made their way down the stairs. Spike peeked over Joyce's shoulder to see the youngest Summers carefully carrying a tray of warmed blood. A pad of paper leaned against the plastic packs. Spike tilted his head in Joyce's grasp so he could read the words written on the paper. Struggling to make sense of the printed message, he frowned with concentration. When the words finally made sense, relief struck so hard he grew light-headed.

#None of us can speak. Don't know why. Don't be afraid. We'll take care of you.#

The vampire heaved a shaky sigh and nodded. Joyce turned away to help Dawn set the tray on the chair they'd been using as a table. He used the opportunity to roughly swipe at the moisture remaining on his face. Angry with himself for doubting Joyce and ashamed that, for the second time since he'd returned to himself, Joyce had seen him crying.

Dawn stood away from the cot and gazed soberly at her vampire friend. Her crystal blue eyes scanned over the thin, hunched form. He'd let his legs drop so he was sitting Indian style on the narrow bed.

'He looks so much smaller than he did before.' She thought sadly. She zoned out as memories of the 'Big Bad' floated through her mind. His smirk when he knew someone was looking at him, his smile when he didn't think anyone could see, the way he swaggered with his leather duster floating out behind him, the pleasure in his dark blue eyes when Joyce gave him extra marshmallows to go with his hot chocolate. A clink from his chains brought her back and she blinked. Her mother was sitting on the cot next to Spike combing her fingers through his unruly hair gently, heedless of its not-so-clean condition, as she watched him go through his poke/sniff/drain feeding ritual. A thought occurred to the teenager so she grabbed the paper and pencil from the tray. She scribbled for a few seconds before she reached out, touched her mother on the shoulder and showed her the note.

#Now that he's better, can we take the chains off?#

Joyce tilted her head as she considered the question. Then she nodded decisively. She'd insisted that Giles leave the key where she could find it. Spike gazed at her with shock in his wide blue eyes. She smiled at him and ran her fingers down his pale cheek. The vampire swung his awestruck gaze to Dawn and blinked. She grinned. His eyes fell to the pad of paper in her hands. The teenager glanced down at it before she held it out with a question in her eyes.

Spike flipped to a clean page and held the pencil in his left hand uncertainly for long minutes. Finally, as the two females watched, he slowly wrote a question. A frown creased his forehead as the mechanics of writing a simple note nearly overwhelmed him.

#I don't want to be any trouble but do you think I could have a shower?# The vampire handed the note to Joyce hesitantly as if fearful he would be punished for being so forward.

Joyce's hazel eyes prickled with tears that she refused to shed as she read the shakily formed words. She knew his handwriting to be so much more elegant and formal than the childish letters he'd worked so hard to form. She'd seen his struggle to read the simple note she'd written to allay his fears. What kind of monsters were they that they tortured even the most basic of skills from him? With a pang of guilt, she took a really good look at his appearance. His clothes were worn nearly threadbare and stained with dirt and blood. His fingernails, which she'd never seen any way other than neatly trimmed and pristine, were ragged and filthy. His hair had been matted until her finger-combing had loosened the worst of the snarls. Before his capture, she'd never seen him appear anything less than clean and well-groomed. She watched as he let his eyes drop to his lap and he began to nibble at his chapped lower lip with white human teeth. She flushed as the thought occurred that she should have let him clean up the day before. He'd fallen asleep while they were talking so it hadn't crossed her mind.

Joyce took the pencil from Spike's trembling fingers and added her answer below his question.

#Of course you can. I'm sorry I didn't think of it sooner. I've treated you horribly.#

His sapphire eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously. He grabbed the pad back and nearly snapped the pencil in his intensity. Laboriously, he wrote his rebuttal.

#NO! Treat me better than I deserve! Feed me, keep me safe. Brought me back - wasn't worth the effort--#  
Joyce's hand darted out and pulled the pencil from his grasp mid-sentence. Spike closed his left hand in a fist and hid it under his leg. His eyes closed as his chin dropped to his chest and he turned his face to the side in mortification.

Dawn moved to the cot, sat on the other side of Spike and slid her arm around his waist. She read the written exchange and her huge blue eyes flooded with tears. Spike jumped in surprise when the warm droplets hit the thin denim of his jeans but otherwise didn't move.

With one hand, Joyce pulled the clenched fist out from under his tense thigh. With the other, she placed gentle fingers under his chin and slowly but firmly made him face her. Waiting patiently until the thick dark lashes lifted, she watched his face carefully. When his gaze finally, timidly met hers, she smiled. Releasing her hold on him, she took the pad of paper and scratched out his last note. Underneath the scratched out portion, she wrote:

#Let's get you free and clean. I think I have some clothes that you can wear until someone can go buy you some new ones. Might not be what you're used to but will be clean and warm.#

Spike's stunned gaze lingered on the words **_free_** and **_clean_**. Two feelings he had not known for so very long. He had all but given up during his captivity. His hopes of freedom had gone away with his consciousness, leaving the way clear for the demon to take over and allow the monsters who'd had him free reign to do whatever they'd wished. '_Oh_ _my_ _god_.' He thought wonderingly. '_It's_ _real_. _It_ _isn't_ _a_ _dream_. _I'm_ _here_. _I'm_ _home_.'

**Giles' house….. **

It was inevitable, Giles supposed, that Xander would show up with Anya in tow. They had been seeing each other for several weeks and the ex-vengeance demon had been trying very hard to fit in with the Scoobies. The couple accepted their message boards with grateful smiles.

Anya's dark eyes ran up and down Michael's transformed appearance with an appreciative gleam. Xander frowned at her. He scribbled a note to Giles.

#I'm going to Buffy's to see if Mrs. Summers needs help with Spike. Okay?#

Giles nodded and guided Anya over to the sofa, handed her a small stack of books and the list of possible scenarios that would fit the current problem. Once she was settled, he picked up his own board and made a silent suggestion.

#Take Mike with you.#

The brunet glanced at the soldier who was exchanging messages with Willow before transferring his gaze to his wide-eyed girlfriend, who was watching the two redheads with ill-concealed interest. Xander's whiskey hued eyes turned back to his father figure and nodded briskly.

The carpenter walked over to Willow and Mike. His life-long friend bounced up and wrapped her arms around him tightly. He returned the hug briefly and released her before catching Michael's gaze. Xander erased his board and wrote a new note for Mike.

#You're coming with me. Let's go.#

**Later...**

It had taken both females quite a while to coax Spike up the stairs and into the kitchen. The vampire had been too shaken to finish the tray of blood that Dawn had so carefully carried down the steps so they'd taken the leftovers back upstairs and _finally_ gave the recovering blond a mug to sip from. Spike sat at the table and traced the wood grain of it with the tips of his fingers. This was where his conscious mind had retreated to leaving the demon wholly in charge, this kitchen, at this table. Distractedly, he watched his fingers trace the polished surface. The sounds of his companions faded into the background while he contemplated the wonder of actually being _home_.

Another mug inched its way across the table into his line of sight. A tiny smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as the scent of hot chocolate reached his nose. Miniature marshmallows were melting into a frothy cap at the top of the steaming, milky brown drink. Joyce's hazel eyes sparkled when she noticed the smile trying to spread across his pale face. Bliss transformed his features as he wrapped chilly fingers around the hot cup. Dawn's eyes stung with unshed tears as she watched the wonder lingering in the sapphire eyes of her best friend.

Spike brought the cup up to his face and inhaled the sweet scent. His eyes closed of their own volition as he took his first sip of hot chocolate in far too many months. It was inevitable that he'd drain the cup in seconds as his companions watched in amusement. Joyce's fingers itched for a digital camera when he lowered the mug revealing a melted marshmallow mustache. He frowned when both of them nearly collapsed in silent laughter. The puzzlement vanished when a dampened paper towel was presented by a grinning teenager. He blessed the lack of circulation that kept him from the blushing that had plagued him as a human. As it was, he ducked his head shyly and quickly wiped away the evidence of his treat.

Joyce slid the mug he'd been using for blood back in front of him, brimming with fresh blood. Spike allowed his demonic features to appear as he raised the cup to his mouth. Dawn scooted her chair closer to him. The sudden noise of it startled the skittish vampire and the hand tipping the mug to his lips twitched, spilling the viscous red fluid down his face to drip from his chin onto his shirt.

Dawn's hand flew up to her mouth in shock. She grasped the vampire's arm in concern. He turned golden eyes to her as he scowled. The teenager scrabbled for the paper and pencil.

#I'm so sorry!#

He bared bloody fangs at her and she squeaked. Or she would have if she'd been able to. As it was her eyes grew to anime proportions. The warnings from her mother and Giles echoed in her head. '_He's dangerous. He can't be trusted to be as he was the last time you saw him. We must be very cautious around him.'_ Behind him, Joyce tapped him lightly on the back of the head. He turned indignant golden eyes to the older woman and she wagged her finger warningly. Dawn sighed in relief when she realized that the vampire was teasing. Joyce pointed to the ceiling in an obvious reminder that he needed to go upstairs to shower.

Feeling much more like his old self than he had in a very long time, Spike paused at the kitchen door to leer once more at the silently giggling girl. Still in game-face, he sauntered toward the stairs while he used his thumb to wipe the still dripping blood off his chin.

A blur was his only warning before a hard fist connected with his face and slammed him backwards into the wall next to the kitchen door.

_**TBC**_


	17. Roller Coaster Demon

Roller Coaster Demon

Disclaimer: Don't own anything worth suing for.

Summary: More Hush as it happened in this AU.

Reviews: Yes please. Missing the warm fuzziness that would be reviews in the in-box. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: The other events of Hush happen just as they did in the original episode in that Willow and Tara meet the same way and Riley and Buffy battle the Gentlemen just as they did before.

Please note that Resurrected is **_not_** going to remain unfinished. I suck at fight scenes and my partner in crime is a bit too overwhelmed by RL to be of any assistance. As soon as he's back in business, we'll get that done and he can help me with the other plot bunny that's been stamping around for attention. Since WayWard Childe _is_ temporarily out of action, all fiction I post is unbeta'd so any mistakes and inconsistencies are all mine.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

It only took a few minutes of the unnatural silence in the car for Xander to impatiently jab a finger onto the power button of the radio. The signal from Los Angeles was strong enough that the sound of a human voice reporting the news assured the two men that the silence was confined to Sunnydale. The report went on to tell them that all schools and businesses were closed until the source of the 'mass laryngitis' was found and dealt with by the Department of Communicable Diseases. Xander rolled his eyes at the blindness that was continually exhibited by the authorities. He glanced at his passenger. Mike had a slight smile on his face as he gazed out of the car window. As Xander watched, the smile disappeared and a frown crossed the broad forehead.

Returning his attention to the road, he saw what had caused his companion's frown. The sidewalks and streets of Sunnydale were discretely but liberally peppered with Initiative soldiers. While the military members were in civilian clothing, they were obvious by their stiff bearing and the fact that they were wandering the streets in pairs. A silent curse moved Xander's mouth as he was forced to stop at a red light. Mike's hands clenched into fists as two of his former co-workers deliberately looked into the car and stared at them. It occurred to Xander and Mike that the large number of soldiers out on the streets were looking for their missing member as well as attempting to maintain control during the abnormal silence.

Mike's heart raced when he realized that both men facing him lived on the same floor of the fraternity house that he had. He forced himself to remain calm as they peered through the windows but heaved a tiny sigh of relief when neither of the soldiers registered even the smallest flicker of recognition. His now-green eyes swung around to Xander. A smirk twisted the male Scooby's mouth as he pulled smoothly through the intersection and away from the inquisitive soldiers. A huge grin lit Mike's handsome face.

The radio had moved on to the weather report by the time the sedan pulled into the Summers' driveway. Both men sat and watched the quiet house for several minutes. Finally, Xander opened his door and motioned for Mike to go with him into the building. The brunet knocked on the front door and waited impatiently for an answer. With a frown of concern, he reached down and turned the knob experimentally. It gave easily and with a slight push, Xander opened the door. Cautiously he stepped into the foyer. With Mike behind him, he walked slowly down the hall listening intently for any sound at all.

Both men froze in shock when Spike strolled through the kitchen door, game-faced and bloody. Watching the vampire wipe the blood from his chin and suck it into his mouth caused gory visions of Buffy's mother and little sister lying on the kitchen floor with their throats torn out to flood Xander's mind. Without another thought he flew forward and punched Spike square in the face sending him skidding backwards into the wall by the door.

Instinctively, the demon bounced up to defend himself. Forgetting the consequences, his own fist darted out into his attacker's chest. White-hot pain shot through his head. Xander staggered with pain but managed to sink his fist into Spike's abdomen. The vampire stumbled back into the wall again with a thud before he sank down to the floor, his hands wrapped around his head. Tears of agony welled in his eyes as his demonic visage faded, leaving his handsome human face in its place.

As Xander's arm pulled back to land yet another punch on the crumpled vampire, Spike folded his arms over his head and braced himself for the punishment he'd been trained to expect.

In the kitchen, Joyce and Dawn looked up in alarm as the sounds of a scuffle sounded in the hallway. In unison, they ran through the door. The sight that confronted them filled them with dismay. Spike was crouched defensively on the floor, his arms wrapped around his bowed head. Above him, Xander stood with his fist raised to strike another blow to the helpless demon. The only thing stopping him was Mike's iron grasp on his forearm. The male Scooby's attention was so focused on Spike that he didn't notice the entrance of the women he was mistakenly defending.

Joyce darted forward into Xander's line of sight. She placed a slender hand on his chest and gazed into the fury-filled depths of his eyes until he refocused and _saw_ her. She nodded and pointed towards Dawn, indicating that both of them were all right. Slowly, he lowered his fist. Mike moved his grasp from forearm to bicep, changing the hold from restraining to calming.

Joyce turned her back on Xander and crouched next to Spike. She ran her hand gently down his back, her heart breaking at the shudders wracking the slender frame. Xander watched her comfort the vampire for a few seconds before stepping forward to try to help. He looked over in puzzlement when Mike's hand tightened on his arm momentarily before easing away. Mike motioned for Xander to stay back. The soldier pointed to himself and then at the couple kneeling on the floor. Xander nodded, ducked his head sheepishly and moved aside to stand next to Dawn. The teenager glared up at him, accusation in her huge blue eyes. He shrugged, deciding to explain it to her when they got their voices back.

Spike cowered against the wall waiting for his punishment. Once again in the mindset of his captivity, where for his every action there was a violent and agonizingly painful consequence. As the tremors quaked through his thin body he waited for the blinding lightening-like jolts to stop frying his brain. A gentle touch to his shoulder was _not_ what he was expecting. A sharp breath and he realized that Joyce was next to him comforting him through the ongoing ordeal. Inch by inch he lowered his arms away from his head. He ran his hands over his face in a last minute delay before once again facing the _human_ who was pulling him away from the lessons that had been tortured into him. Making sure his face was dry of tears he lowered his hands and raised his head to see – a face that was far too familiar for comfort.

Michael crouched in front of the traumatized vampire, carefully keeping a small distance between them. He hadn't been this close to this particular demon before even though he'd been on guard duty in his holding section for a major portion of the time he'd been with the Initiative. He remembered the defiance that had sparkled in the fiery eyes even after extended periods of torture. He closed his own eyes as he thought about the nightmares that had plagued this creature every night, nightmares that had been ignored by everyone except Michael. It had been a serious shock to look into the holding cell the first time he'd pulled guard duty after this vampire's capture. He knew the vampire would not remember his own face well enough to make the connection but the first opportunity he had after that night, he'd contacted his uncle and requested the family records. With a sudden chill, he gave silent thanks that he'd had the foresight to hide those records in a safe deposit box under an assumed name. He hadn't been _strictly_ honest with Mr. Giles. He _knew_ who this vampire had been before being turned. He also knew that no one other than himself had that knowledge. He was very aware that, given enough time, Rupert Giles would put the pieces together. Inhaling sharply, he opened his eyes and met the suspicious blue glare aimed at him.

Spike tilted his head curiously trying to figure out where he'd seen this man before. He inhaled in an attempt to place the scent. A silent growl rumbled in his chest and his eyes glowed with gold as the unmistakable taint of **_that_** **_place_** registered. Another inhalation and a puzzled frown crossed his forehead. **_Drusilla_**? Why would this _human_ smell of his Sire? It was too confusing. He vamped and stood suddenly. Joyce tumbled backwards onto her behind as she lost her hold on him. Xander leapt forward to help her up. Mike rose at the same time so Spike found himself standing eye to eye with the disturbingly familiar man. The Nike running shoes Mike wore put him taller than the barefoot vampire but by less than an inch. It was obvious to the onlookers that they were nearly identical in height and build.

The vampire took one menacing step forward. Michael refused to move. Spike's fists clenched in rage. He wasn't going to take this any more. He was a Master Vampire. He'd been kidnapped, tortured and he was **_not_** going to put up with any more insolence from **_the_** **_food_**.

Xander gently tugged Joyce toward the kitchen, not wanting either of the females near the enraged vampire. The three of them stood back and watched the eerily silent confrontation.

Spike reached out and poked Mike in the chest, not hard enough to hurt but strong enough to indicate he wanted to get past. Mike shook his head slowly. Fangs flashed as Spike snarled silently. Mike tilted his head in an uncanny imitation of Spike's earlier motion.

Suddenly the emotional roller coaster Spike had been riding since waking swerved again. Anger, confusion, fear all crashed through his still aching head. He no longer trusted his own instincts, didn't feel safe any more. A sudden breeze caused the still open front door to bump against the wall. The unexpected noise made them all jump. Spike saw an opportunity. With a little of his recovered vampiric speed, he shoved Mike aside and dashed for the open door.

**Giles' house…..**

Buffy finished her written report and turned it over to her Watcher with a grimace reminiscent of her late homework assignments of high school. He nodded his thanks and checked his watch, wondering vaguely if everything was all right at the Summers' house. Xander had indicated that he and Mike would make sure Spike was secured and harmless. The Brit was concerned about the unpredictable reaction the former captive would have to this unnatural silence. With a silent sigh, he wrote a quick note to his Slayer instructing her to go out and begin an early patrol. She frowned at him since sunset was still a few hours away. Giles pulled his glasses from his face with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. It had been a long, tiring day already and all he wanted was more sleep. Willow bounced over and showed them both a note on her message board asking Buffy to escort her back to the dormitory so she could finish some homework.

Anya had given up even pretending to search the books for references to mystical silence. She'd uncovered the old television in the corner and had turned it on. Rupert had to admit to himself that the sound of the news announcer was a welcome diversion from the oppressive silence.

After the door closed behind the Slayer and the Witch, Giles wandered into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea. He hoped fervently that Drusilla would remain asleep in her room until Michael returned. Another glance at his watch and he was again wondering what was delaying the two young men.

**Summers' house…. **

Mike allowed the momentum of the shove from Spike carry him all the way to the wall. A slight gasp of pain as his shoulder collided with the wooden base of the stair railing was all that was required. Mere inches from the open door and the deadly sunlight that splashed through it, Spike crumpled to the floor with his head held tightly in clenching fingers. Instantly, Mike regained his balance and leapt forward to slam the door shut. Spike looked up as he felt the soldier rush past him. Mike stood resolutely in front of the now closed front door and impassively stared down at the vampire. For endless minutes everyone in the house remained frozen.

Finally, Spike shifted. He rose slowly from his crouch near the base of the stairs. Xander, Joyce and Dawn held their breath waiting to see what the unpredictable vampire would do next. Game-faced and golden-eyed, Spike prowled closer to Mike.

The soldier remained still as the vampire crowded into his personal space. The green tinted eyes held steady on the demonic features. Spike bared his fangs in annoyance when the human continued to watch him coolly, fearlessly. He stopped inches from Mike and stared into green eyes that seemed…… _wrong_? The demon inhaled again, trying to decipher the human's scent. He growled silently as he caught and dismissed the odor of **_that place_**, the bittersweet tang from Drusilla calmed him marginally before being discarded. This time he caught yet another layer of the human's scent, something basic and unique, and something vaguely, disturbingly familiar. Spike froze as he tried to process what he'd smelled. His face shifted back to his human visage as he stepped backwards in surprise. It had been over one hundred years since he'd known someone who smelled like that. He took another look at the man in front of him, this time sweeping his gaze from head to toe. The spiked burgundy hair seemed as wrong as the green eyes. Spike closed his eyes for a moment trying to picture this human with different hair, light brown or dark blond. That done, he mentally changed the eye color to something more compatible, more _familiar_. The image his mind presented to him startled him so badly his eyes flew open and he stared in disbelief.

Michael stood statue-still while the vampire in front of him attempted to process the impossible. He could see the others at the other end of the hall waiting and watching, unsure of just what they were seeing. He watched Xander wrap his hand around Joyce's upper arm to keep her from approaching and possibly startling the unbalanced vampire.

Spike's emotional roller coaster took yet another plunge and he began to back away from Mike. His bare feet collided with the bottom step of the stair case and he sat down with a slight thump. The vampire propped his elbows onto his knees and he leaned forward to bury his face in his hands. Joyce took that as a sign that it was reasonably safe to approach her shaken friend. She bent in front of him and ran her hands across Spike's bowed shoulders.

Mike inched backwards until his hand rested on the doorknob. A quick turn, a tug and the door opened just enough for him to slip through. Outside he made his way shakily to the top of the porch steps where he sank down slowly. In a mirror image of the vampire, he rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

_**TBC**_


	18. Demons, Gentlemen & Other Scary Critters

Demons, Gentlemen and Other Scary Critters

Disclaimer: I own nothing worth suing for. And you ain't gettin' my ticket to James' concert on April 14th. :P

Summary: More 'Hush' as it occurs in this AU. A bit more about Michael is revealed.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Again, this is an unbeta'd chapter as WayWard Childe is still out of contact. So any errors, please point 'em out and I'll fix. Miss you Childe! Hurry back! When I have an estimated update time for 'Resurrected' I will let y'all know but as of right now, it's on hiatus. I will try to work on it after the Grand Slam convention next month. As far as that is concerned, while I might be working on fics, I seriously doubt I'll be posting again until later next month.

Twelve completely useless points goes to the reviewer who can tell me exactly what Anya was watching that scared her. I blame too many late nights with a two year old for certain sections of this chapter.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Joyce inched her way onto the step next to Spike, being very careful to maintain contact. Her slender fingers trailed across his bony shoulders in a gentle caress. Long minutes passed before anyone else felt the urge to move. Dawn moved silently in to sit on the sofa, wide blue eyes staring at the blank television screen. Xander followed the teenager, a concerned frown on his handsome face. Carefully, he tipped her face up with a gentle finger under her chin. After ensuring he had her full attention, his whiskey dark eyes searched hers. Reassured that the girl was all right, he released her face with a soft caress down her cheek. He picked up the television remote and pushed the power button before handing it to her. Everyone jumped when the sound broke the unnatural silence of the room.

The unexpected sound of a male voice washed over Spike's tense body like a sheet of icy water. He jerked his face up from his hands, demon to the fore. Startled, Joyce retreated as close the wall as possible. As soon as he was freed from her soothing touch, the vampire scuttled backwards up the stairs. From his new vantage point, Spike paused so he could attempt to assess the latest threat.

Feeling marginally safer from his perch six steps higher, Spike looked around the room. Joyce was still on the step where he'd started, her back pressed tightly against the wall. Her huge hazel eyes gazed up at him with fearful concern deep in their depths.

Xander moved from his position near the sofa to stand with one hand on the newel post. One foot was poised over the first step of the staircase. Spike stared down at the male Scooby with clear threat in his golden eyes. Xander took one look at the bared fangs and set his foot back down on the floor. His free hand rose in a conciliatory gesture, patting the air lightly in a 'calm down' motion.

Spike watched the man closely. He still wasn't _quite_ sure the human male wasn't a _punisher_. His inability to speak frustrated and frightened him. It was far too reminiscent of when **_that_** **_woman_** had directed her helpers to hold his mouth open so she could drip holy water into his throat. It had taken nearly a week for his vocal cords to heal enough for speech to be possible again. The only thing comforting him about his silence this time was that no one _else_ could speak either. He pulled himself up into a crouch, steadying himself with one hand on a stair rail, ready to leap either way should the human make a move towards him. He balanced on the step, feral, tense and game-faced. The blood on his face was drying into rusty streaks; his golden eyes remained watchful and suspicious as they swung from one human to the next.

Once more the occupants of the house were frozen waiting for the unpredictable, damaged vampire to make the first move.

**Outside….**

Michael thought about the confrontation he'd just provoked. He couldn't believe he'd been able to make the small connection he had without the ability to speak. He dry-scrubbed his face with his hands and raised his head, more thankful than ever that Miss Drusilla had taken him away from the Initiative. He tensed as memories of his former job crossed his mind. Some of Professor Walsh's more 'creative' techniques caused him to shudder. Snippets of gossip passed from each duty shift floated through his mind. The laughter of the guards he'd relieved soon after Spike had been captured echoed in his ears. He gasped sharply as his agile mind played 'connect the dots'. _Hostile_ _17_… _throat_… _holy_ _water_…. _inability_ _to_ _speak_… 'Holy shit!' He thought as he shot up from the step and frantically dashed back into the house.

**Giles' apartment….**

Rupert sipped the latest in an endless procession of cups of tea. He was beginning to feel incredibly weary as the interminable day wore on. Xander and Mike had been gone for several hours. Without the ability to speak a phone call was unfeasible so all the Watcher could do was sit and worry. It would be dark soon and he desperately hoped the young men would return before Drusilla made an appearance. He wandered out of the kitchen slowly, mentally reviewing which books he needed to pull out next in his seemingly impossible search for the cause of everyone's muteness.

He stopped abruptly at the sight of Anya huddled into the corner of his sofa, her eyes wide with horror. The unfamiliar sounds of what seemed to be a children's show played softly in the background. With a frown, Giles sat gingerly on the coffee table so he could attempt to determine what was frightening the ex-demon. He placed his teacup carefully on the table and tapped gently on the message board she clutched tightly in her fingers. With a show of difficulty, Anya pulled her huge brown eyes away from the television. Giles indicated the message board again. She gave a shaky nod and forced her fingers to work the marker.

# How can they put things like THAT on a kiddy show? #

Rupert frowned as he glanced back towards the television and the brightly colored foursome bouncing around. He gently took the board and wrote his question under hers.

# What things? #

She glared at him fiercely and pointed back at the television, her finger shaking with fear. Again the Watcher turned towards the show which was now displaying a somewhat disturbing image of a baby's face superimposed on a sun. The scene shifted yet again and a meadow occupied the screen. He turned back to Anya when he felt her jump. Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears of terror and she reacted by snatching the board back, viciously erasing the two previous messages and writing in letters as large as she could manage on the small surface.

# BUNNIES!! #

He pasted an 'Oh, I see' expression on his face, took another look at the television to verify that, yes indeed there were several rabbits hopping around the artificial meadow, and nodded in sympathetic understanding. He picked up the remote control from the coffee table and changed the channel before handing the device to her. She heaved a sigh of relief and smiled shakily. He nodded again, patted the hand holding the remote, picked up his tea and retreated back to the kitchen. There, he hurriedly shoved his teacup onto the counter and grasped the edge of the same counter desperately. His shoulders trembled with effort and his breath hitched painfully. His head hung low until his chin rested on his chest but he lost the battle and silent laughter overtook him. For just a moment, he thanked whatever had caused their inability to speak so the distraught young woman in the next room could not hear the great whooping howls of laughter he knew he would otherwise be making.

**Summers' house….**

The sound of the front door slamming open startled everyone. Joyce relaxed visibly when she recognized Michael in the entryway. Xander glanced back over his shoulder without any further movement and nodded when his dark eyes met the tinted ones of the former soldier. Dawn's head turned slowly that direction before returning to her mindless contemplation of whatever she could find on the television. She figured that the adults could handle everything so she tried to distract her mind from the thought that her vampire friend could be permanently damaged by his ordeal.

Mike paused and assessed the scene. Spike was game-faced, perched warily on a step halfway up the staircase. Joyce was seated on the second step up from the ground floor with her back pressed hard against the wall. Xander was at the foot of the stairs with one hand on the post, poised as if to ascend the steps in pursuit of the vampire. Mike slumped against the door he'd let swing shut, let his head drop forward and closed his eyes. Xander would have been amused if he'd been able to read the other man's lips. It was a lament he himself had muttered more than once in the past few days.

"I have _not_ had enough _sleep_ for this." With a deep breath, Mike squared his shoulders, stood up straight and caught Joyce's gaze. He raised both hands and mimed writing since he and Xander had left their message boards in the car. She rose gracefully and with a quick nod, hurried to the kitchen for their paper and pencil, returning in seconds.

The redhead accepted the pad and took a moment to look over the messages written on the paper. He briefly closed his eyes at the pang in his chest caused by the childish lettering of Spike's words. With a sharp inhalation, he flipped to a fresh page and slowly climbed the stairs. He stopped two steps down from the silently snarling demon. Carefully making sure Spike could see what he was doing, Mike wrote a note.

# It's ok now. You are safe. Do you still want a shower? #

He held the note up where Spike could read it and waited patiently.

Spike tilted his head as he read the note held by the _familiar_ human. Letting his demonic visage fade away, he nodded slowly. The fact that it was well past the middle of the day was playing havoc with his system. Everything in him was shrieking for him to be asleep. But he wanted to be clean more than anything. He gazed thoughtfully at the burgundy haired man. He desperately wanted to know who this human was and why he smelled the way he did but had nearly resigned himself to waiting until they could actually talk to find out. His basic impatience had him reaching for the paper and pencil though. He laboriously wrote his questions.

# Who are you? Why do you smell like… # He stopped, unable to finish, the thought too painful to be borne on top of the other stresses of the day

Mike took the pad back and scanned the note. His back was to the other humans in the room so none of them saw the flicker of sorrow pass over his handsome face. Spike noticed and waited, his blue eyes trained on the other face intently. Mike thought hard for endless seconds before taking a deep breath and the pencil. He wrote his answer carefully and turned the pad around with a tiny smile, knowing that, to the vampire at least, his secret would be revealed.

# My name is Michael Adler Caden. #

Spike's mouth dropped open and he gaped foolishly at the young man in front of him. Adler, his own last name, dropped upon his turning and long hidden from any of the Watcher's Council records. His wide sapphire eyes locked on the unnaturally green gaze of Michael. The younger man nodded slowly and his lips formed two impossible words.

"Uncle Will."

**Giles' apartment….**

Rupert pulled the crocheted afghan he kept draped across the back of his sofa over Anya, careful not to wake her up. It had been over an hour since the phone had rung, an obnoxious song had played over the line that the ex-demon informed him was from one of Xander's favorite movies, Caddyshack.

"_I'm alright._

_Don't nobody worry about me._"

The younger man had let the two lines of lyrics play followed by several seconds of silence before they began again, repeating the pattern several times. As soon as Anya had identified the song and who could be playing it, Giles had hung up to let Xander know he'd gotten the message. It had been an inspired move on the male Scooby's part.

Now, Rupert stood watching the pretty young woman sleep. Her earlier fright had worn her out and her relief at knowing Xander was all right had allowed her to relax and drift off to sleep. He picked up the television remote and pushed the power button, turning the noise off. A footstep on the stair caught his attention so he turned to watch Drusilla descend the rest of the way down.

The vampire smiled at Giles as he backed slightly way from her. She walked to the back of the sofa and peered down at Anya. With an evil glint in her eye, Dru licked her lips. Giles violently shook his head, telling her that the new human was off the menu. The dark-haired immortal simply smiled and turned away, gliding in to the kitchen. She sat at the small table and waved an imperious hand toward the refrigerator. Rupert, following behind her cautiously, caught the hint and pulled several bags of animal blood from the cold depths. He proceeded to heat the bags in the microwave, decanting one into a cup, refilling it as soon as she emptied it. She grimaced in distaste but made no move to leave the apartment for more appetizing fare. This caused Giles no small amount of concern. If the current threat was bad enough to keep a Master Vampire indoors, what chance did his Slayer have against it?

He left briefly to fetch one of the message boards.

He wrote: # Michael went to Buffy's house to help with Spike. I don't know when he will be back. #

She nodded and held her hand up for the board. He erased it for her and handed it over.

# William has been in a bad way. My Pretty has been helping him. He and Kitten will return shortly. #

The vampire's handwriting was elegantly old-fashioned and precise. Giles had long ceased to wonder how she _knew_ things.

With a grimace of distaste, Drusilla drained the cup of the last of the blood and handed the empty container back. Rupert carried it to the sink and rinsed it out trying not to think about its former contents. She rose from the table gracefully and glided back into the living room.

Giving the appearance of not exactly knowing what she wanted to do, the immortal drifted over to the bookcase and trailed her elegant fingers over the spines of the antique books resting on the shelf. Giles watched carefully, fearful of his irreplaceable books. She frowned slightly and moved on to a short row of books sitting on top of a small chest. Her lovely face changed to a smirk as she plucked a book from its place and held it gently in both hands. The Watcher approached her cautiously and peered at the volume. It was bound in red leather with a golden image of a medallion below large gold letters on the front that gave the title as 'Fairy Tales'. With a smile, she handed the book to Giles and went silently back upstairs.

Bemused, Giles took the book with him to the kitchen so he could prepare yet another cup of tea. He settled at the table and wondered what it was he was supposed to be looking for in this particular book.

The sound of someone entering the tiny kitchen a while later brought Giles' head up from the book. Anya smiled uncertainly and crossed over to the refrigerator, withdrawing a soda. She waggled the can at him in response to his smile as she wandered back to the living room.

The ex-demon moved curiously over to the window, peering out into the darkening landscape with concern. Xander and Michael weren't back yet. A movement at the corner to the building caught her attention and she pressed closer to the glass to see if it was the missing men. Her unopened soda can slipped from her suddenly lax grip and clattered onto the floor as she jumped back, her mouth wide open in a silent scream when a face appeared right outside the window.

_**TBC**_


	19. Confused Demon

Confused Demon

Disclaimer: I own nothing worth suing for.

Summary: The end of Hush as it plays out in this AU.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: _**Hugs, kisses and chocolate chip cookies to the lovely reader who nominated this fic at the Love's Last Glimpse Awards. THANK YOU SO MUCH! **_It's up for a whopping four awards and, while I don't expect to win anything, being nominated is a huge thrill.

12 completely useless points go to Kim for being first to identify the evil TeleTubbies in the last chapter.

As I said in an earlier chapter, events of the episode 'Hush' that were not changed for the purposes of this story stay the same. I know it's a relatively short chapter compared to the rest of this fic but the muse paid only a fleeting visit before flitting away again. Maybe inspiration will hit after my best friend's wedding next week.

WayWard Childe! Dude! You reviewed! Can't wait until you're back full time!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Earlier, Summers' house…**

Spike stared up at Mike in exhausted confusion. He couldn't force the pieces into any sort of sense. How? What connection was this _human_ to him? The silent words falling from that mouth had been clear. 'Uncle Will'. Hope flared in his still heart. Had _she_ survived? Had Angelus missed that branch of his family? After Drusilla had told the elder vampire of the debacle that had been William's attempt to turn his mother, Angelus had gone on a mission to eradicate the entire Adler family. At the time, there had only been William and his mother living at home so the vampire's wrath had been taken out on the remaining servants. After several days away, Angelus had returned to the lair full of satisfaction that there was no one left to remember William. No one left to mourn the shy, bookish poet. William had done _his_ mourning secretly, holding his grief and hatred in his heart for decades. Now it seemed that somehow Angelus had failed in his mission. There were so many questions he _needed_ answers to.

A hand on his elbow drew the blond vampire away from his distressing thoughts. He allowed Mike to pull him upright and lead him to the bathroom off the upstairs hallway. Spike shook himself out of his stupor as he realized the tiny room he'd been led into had …. _White_ …. _Tiled_ ... _Walls_. He promptly panicked, wheeling backwards into Mike in an attempt to escape the torture chamber. Memories of a room _just like this one_ filled his mind. _A tank, water - so cold particles of ice floated in it - slowly creeping up his bound body, unable to move as the cold invaded every molecule of his being, irrational fear caused by his helplessness. Why him? What had __**he**__ done to these people? Have to get out. Get __**out**__**Getoutgetoutgetout**_

Michael swore viciously as the compliant vampire next to him exploded into wild, terrified struggles. He took a swift look around the bathroom and understood the reason for the terror. The tiny room had white tile on the walls and the shower itself had sliding glass doors. It looked entirely too much like one of _those rooms_. Thanking everything he held holy that everyone else had remained downstairs, Mike used every bit of his training to keep his grip on his uncle. It took several precious minutes before the former soldier could force Spike still. Grasping the too thin face firmly but carefully in his hands, Mike held him there, staring into gold-tinged eyes until he could see the blue return and the vampire calm slightly. Transferring his hold to bony shoulders, Mike gently pushed Spike down until he was sitting on the closed toilet. He crouched in front of the frightened vampire, holding his gaze steadily. He waited for a few more minutes to see if the noise created by their tussle had attracted the attention of the people waiting downstairs. No footsteps heralded the arrival of anyone else so Mike released his hold on one shoulder and cautiously reached into the enclosed bathtub to turn on the water. The sound caused a shudder to wrack the skittish vampire but otherwise he kept still, trusting the human against all his instincts.

Expecting resistance and surprised when he received none, Mike took a hold of Spike's hand and pushed it firmly under the warming water. His heart broke at the expression of awe on the blond's face. He pulled up the lever for the shower and began stripping the now cooperative demon.

**Downstairs….**

Joyce wearily rested her head against the wall as she listened to the struggle upstairs. She didn't know what had caused Will to freak out yet again and was positive she didn't _want_ to know. She pushed herself upright and descended the few steps to the landing. Xander gazed down at her somberly as she drew up next to him. With a flick of his head, he silently asked if he should go up and help Mike. Her ash blonde hair swayed gently as she shook her head no. She nodded toward where Dawn was sitting on the sofa staring wide-eyed at the television, not seeming to see what she was watching.

Together they moved over and sat next to the girl. Joyce pulled her youngest daughter into a hug. With an uncomfortable shrug, Xander stood again and wandered over to the rack containing the family's assortment of video tapes. He picked through the selection looking for something to cheer up the distressed teenager. An old favorite caught his eye and he held it up to Dawn for approval. A shaky smile rewarded his efforts. Soon, the young girl was lost in the artificial insanity and somewhat successfully ignoring the real madness that was seeping into her life.

With a tilt of her head, Joyce indicated that Xander follow her to the basement. They studiously ignored the chains lying empty on the cot and began searching through the boxes stacked in the corner for some clothing for Spike.

It took longer than she'd hoped but they eventually unearthed some black sweatpants and an old dark blue t-shirt that belonged to a nephew who'd visited a few years back. The clothing had been thrown into the family wash and forgotten when the young man had gone home.

Back upstairs, Joyce stopped Xander when he made a move to take the clothes up to Mike. Remembering the fear Spike had exhibited towards the carpenter, she felt it would be better if she went up instead.

Mike looked up from his spot on the floor outside the open bathroom door. He was sitting against the wall with his legs pulled up and his arms wrapped around them. Joyce was struck by the similarity to Spike in his posture. The sound of water running in the shower could be clearly heard. Joyce couldn't help herself and peeked into the bathroom. A light blush suffused her pretty face as she spied Will's faint silhouette against the doubled frosted glass of the shower doors. The doors had been centered so they were open on each side to keep the vampire from feeling trapped in the small enclosure. In her brief look, she could see that he was resting his head on crossed arms and leaning against the tile under the shower head. The hot water poured over him, flattening his two-toned curls. His eyes were closed, dark lashes fanned across pale cheeks. The defeat and exhaustion in his stance shot a pang through her tender heart. Blinking away the tears that had risen at the sight, she handed the bundle of clothes to Mike. She then moved to the linen closet at the end of the hall and withdrew a large bath towel to hand to the young man. He nodded as he accepted the warm terrycloth and placed it on the floor with the clothes to wait until the vampire was ready to get out of his shower. Somehow Mike had the feeling that moment would be about two seconds after the water turned cold. With one last fleeting glimpse at her vampire, Joyce fled back downstairs to find something to make for dinner.

Spike stood motionless under the liquid heat of the shower. Months of blood, sweat and dirt dissolved from his body and raced toward the drain. After several minutes of absorbing the warmth, he reached for the washcloth hanging on the bar and the soap in the tray next to it. He washed slowly, relishing the feeling of getting clean at last. A bottle of shampoo sat on the edge of the tub and he used it lavishly, scrubbing his scalp almost violently as he inhaled the scent that he associated with Joyce. _Finally_ free of the stench from _that place _and surrounded by the smell of _home_, he braced himself against the tiled wall under the shower head and let the hot water flow over his fatigued body. Laying his forehead on his crossed arms, he stilled again, his eyes closed; thanking all the gods he no longer believed in that the cascading water hid the slow tears leaking out from under his dark lashes. He remained so for a long time ignoring his human guardian outside the open door and unaware of the lovely woman whose eyes had misted at the sight of his misery.

True to Mike's prediction, Spike leapt out of the tub the instant the hot water ran out. With a slight smirk, the human handed over the oversized towel. As the vampire turned his back to dry off, Mike dropped the clothing onto the closed commode and went back into the hallway, leaving his ancestor to dress himself.

The rest of the time spent at the Summers' house was almost anti-climactic. Spike was literally drooping with exhaustion by the time he'd dragged on his borrowed clothes. He leaned heavily on Mike as they made their way slowly downstairs. Joyce had heated several bags of blood for the blond and followed the men down to the basement with the tray. With a grimace of apology, Mike re-chained the vampire. A silent snarl and flash of fangs greeted the reluctant move. In short order Spike drained every bag of blood, not bothering with the cup in his hunger. His golden eyes were nearly closed by the time he finished his meal. It took very little effort on Mike's part to tip the vampire over onto his pillow before covering him up with his blanket. The demonic features faded as the vampire slid deeper into sleep.

Joyce lingered at Spike's bedside for a few minutes after the former soldier went back upstairs. Her slender fingers combed through the silky two-toned curls several times before she gave in to temptation and pressed a soft kiss onto his smooth forehead. He sighed silently in his sleep and his lips curved up in a tiny smile.

Upstairs again, Mike entered the living room to find Xander and Dawn playing the theme song to Caddyshack into the telephone. They allowed the first two lines to play before they rewound the video and started it over. Between each play, one of them would lift the receiver from the top of the television and listen for a second. Finally, Xander nodded in satisfaction and hung up with a huge grin. Mike shook his head ruefully as they high-five'd each other.

Dinner was simple, spaghetti and garlic bread. They lingered over it, none of them wishing to do anything more but the time came that the men felt they had to return to the Watcher's house and inform him of the events of the day. Joyce packaged up the leftover food and sent it with them for Giles and Anya.

**Xander's car….**

Michael let his head fall backwards onto the headrest with a deep sigh of exhaustion, his eyes drifted shut almost against his will. He'd gotten very little sleep the past two days. Had it only been a couple of days? It didn't seem possible. In his pocket was the folded up piece of paper with his written exchange with Spike. He'd found the notepad on the stairs where it had fallen, forgotten, face down on the carpet. He wasn't quite ready to answer the questions that would surely follow should any of the others see it. He couldn't believe how trying the afternoon had been. 'Please, God, let this silence end soon.' The plea ran through his mind incessantly.

He dozed until he felt Xander brake suddenly. Looking out of his window, his tinted eyes widened with horror. Minions, bent over and wearing untied straight jackets loped crookedly several feet in front of two tall, black suited demons. Their heads were bald, their faces skeletal with dark sunken eyes. They floated several inches over the ground, their mouths stretched into hideously toothy grins. In the distance, they could see more minions leading another set of two demons in the opposite direction… away from Giles' apartment complex. Mike reached over and grabbed Xander's shoulder pointing at the distant demons as two of the minions shambled towards the car. Fortunately words weren't necessary as the carpenter slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The car shot forward, mowing down at least one of the nightmarish creatures. They sped down the street toward Giles' apartment, skidding to a stop in the lot. The men dived out of both sides of the car, slammed the doors shut and raced for front door.

Rupert and Anya looked up from where they were seated on the sofa as the door flew open. Xander and Mike tumbled through it, turning hurriedly to close it behind them. A plastic bag hung from Mike's arm and he set it carefully on the floor as Xander rushed to the sofa to pull Anya into a worried hug. Giles rose and moved over to press a hand to Mike's shoulder as the younger man leaned over, his hands resting on his knees, his head hanging low.

Ignoring the couple who were busy checking each other for injury – by way of their tonsils, Rupert waited patiently until Mike had finished gulping in air. A light footstep on the stairs brought Mike's head up. He smiled slightly when he spied Drusilla gliding down towards him. The former soldier straightened and held his hand out for her to take. He tightened his fingers around her slender cool ones, unaccountably happy to see her.

The Watcher and Anya were thrilled that Joyce had thought to send them food. Giles had not been prepared to host several people for more than a few hours. The reheated spaghetti had disappeared quickly and Joyce's dishes washed and repacked in the shopping bag before the group settled at the dining table to search for the demons they'd seen. Anya, having seen one up close through the window, took the book that Dru had selected and given to Giles. Therefore, the ex-demon was the one who found the sketch and description of the Gentlemen. It didn't take long for Giles to prepare a briefing for the Slayer. That done, he had Mike and Xander relate everything that had happened while they'd been gone. Afterwards, he began sleeping assignments. Dru and Michael would remain in the guest bedroom. The Watcher didn't feel comfortable sending Anya and Xander back to his place so they were given the master bedroom. Giles was left with the sofa.

The next day passed peacefully with all of them sleeping late. Just before sunset, Buffy and Willow made their way to the Watcher's apartment. Using an oversized sketch pad Giles explained to the girls what the threat was and how to defeat it. Buffy departed for patrol determined to put an end to the problem.

At the Summers' house, Spike, Joyce and Dawn spent a quiet day watching television. Joyce made Buffy move Spike up the living room. The Slayer had not been happy but could not provide any valid argument against the evidence of the chip and the vampire's obvious exhaustion from the previous day's stress. Buffy needn't have worried. Although she didn't leave until late in the afternoon, the traumatized demon ignored her and simply stayed on the sofa drifting in and out of sleep. With a pillow under his head and a blanket covering his slender form, Spike curled into the corner cushions and dozed under the watchful eyes of the Slayer and her family.

That night, Buffy and Riley Finn fought and defeated the Gentlemen, restoring the voices to the unsuspecting Sunnydale residents. That night, Riley discovered that the fabled Slayer existed _and_ she was the girl he was interested in. That night, Buffy found out that Michael had not been lying about Riley's true occupation. That night, Drusilla resumed her hunting of the soldiers who had damaged her Childe. And that night, Joyce first learned their voices were back when she was jolted from her restless sleep by the sounds of Will's nightmares.

_**TBC**_


	20. Demonic Secrets

Demonic Secrets

070207

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Michael and I'm not giving him up.

Summary: Seems that everyone has something they're not telling.

Reviews: Yes please. If y'all are still interested, by all means tell me what you think. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

Warnings: Semi-explicit sex and minor bloodplay.

A/N: I honestly had not realized how much time had passed since the last update, what with post-convention blues and an excessive amount of traveling in May. As a peace offering this chapter is a little bit longer than the last two.

Thank you, kim for the pokes. (grin)

Many thanks to the lovely reader who nominated Runaway Mouth at the Love's Last Glimpse Awards. It's still a thrill just to have the recognition. I think I've even picked up readers because of it. _**THANK**_ _**YOU**_!

Hugs and smooches to my favorite muse, WayWard Childe. Thanks for your insightful and valued input. I missed you tons!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Several days later…. Summers house…**

Joyce hesitated at the top of the stairs. Going down into the basement grew more difficult with each passing day. It wasn't that she was afraid of Spike. She knew that, even without the chip, he wouldn't harm her. No, seeing him chained tore at her heart. But after the trauma during the Silence, both Giles and Buffy insisted that, if neither of them could be in the house, Spike had to be restrained. The vampire had submitted to the dictate with ill grace but was powerless to do anything about it. Every move he made in the offensive caused lightening to shoot through his head. The tray in her hands wobbled slightly as she stood there momentarily lost in her thoughts. Weariness washed through her, sleep had been in short supply recently. She knew Spike couldn't help it, couldn't control the nightmares – terrors – he suffered every time he closed his eyes. But more than once in the past few days she found herself reaching to turn off the monitor so she wouldn't have to listen to the pain filled groans and pleas for _them_ to '_stop_, _please_ _**stop'**_. It was at those times she couldn't help but wish that they had never recovered their voices.

Spike gazed moodily up at the staircase opposite of his cot. He could sense Joyce wavering up there. He knew having him ensconced in her basement was wearing on her terribly. He could see new lines of fatigue on her lovely face each time she visited him. It _hurt_ his unbeating heart to see the effect having him there had on her. All he'd wanted those long torturous months had been to get back to _her_. He'd realized right after he'd said goodbye that last time that he really didn't _want_ to go back to Drusilla. He had actually turned in his tracks to return to Joyce but had been _taken_ instead. Now he was a burden on her, a useless, broken shell of himself, mentally and physically screwed up. He thumped his head back on the wall behind him in frustration. He knew he shouldn't be there, shouldn't be causing her so much stress. But Giles was unwilling to simply let him go. Truth be told - not that he'd admit it to any _human_ - Spike himself was … _resistant_ … to the idea of being out on his own. He didn't _want_ to leave. Now that he was where he'd _longed_ to be, he wanted to stay. Stay forever and hope like hell that _eventually_ she'd look at him with some small measure of affection. He'd make sure she'd never know he _desperately_ wished for _more_, because he was a monster and didn't deserve her.

He still didn't understand exactly what _**those people**_ had done to him but he _knew_ he couldn't survive on his own, at least not yet. He could smell the bagged blood she carried and grimaced. He was slowly getting used to the taste of the animal blood but it was really, really hard. Not only that but it wasn't as efficient in healing him as human blood was. Animal blood didn't have the same nutritional value as human. It just simply didn't work as well. He sighed and shifted on his bed. His chains clanked softly with his motions.

"Joyce?" He called quietly. "I know you're up there, Luv. Are you all right?" His voice was low and husky, as it had been since he'd begun talking again.

Joyce flinched at the sound. She'd loved his voice – before. It _had_ been a smooth, rich baritone with a sexy British accent that wavered, between the one he'd affected after he'd been turned and the more cultured Gilesian one from his human life, with the stories he'd told. She and Dawn had sat for hours listening to that wonderful sound. Now the dulcet tones were tainted with a low rasp commonly blamed on too many cigarettes. While it was no less sexy in sound, she'd initially attributed the change to disuse. But as the days passed with no improvement, she had realized that it was entirely possible his beautiful voice had been altered forever. Still beautiful, still sexy but irrevocably changed - as was he.

"Joyce?" Concern began to thread through the husky voice. "Luv?" A clank of steel as he moved restlessly brought her back from her musing.

"I'm fine, Will. I'll be right down. I was just…." She paused. She was just… what? What _could_ she tell him? That she was thinking about how _damaged_ he now was? With a silent sigh, she squared her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face and descended the stairs to give her vampire his first meal of the day.

'Please God, let it be a good day.' She prayed silently.

**The Initiative Lab…..**

Maggie Walsh schooled her features into an expressionless mask and turned to face the guest Riley Finn had brought into her domain. "So _you're_ the Slayer." She said blandly. "I thought you were a myth."

Buffy smiled brightly even though she inwardly seethed with loathing for the supercilious woman. "I guess you were myth-taken." She quipped.

Riley turned to the table next to him and picked up a clipboard to hide the grimace that flashed across his face.

"I'm sure you'll find that we use the most up-to-date technology to control the demon population. We have the most efficient methods of eliminating the hostiles that you could hope to find. I believe you use a pointy stick?" Walsh smirked at the petite blonde who continued to beam at Riley.

'_Up-to-date methods of torture_?' Buffy thought acidly. '_Control the demons with little computer chips_?' The past few days of dealing with a chipped Spike had taught her a few things about tolerance. While the injured vampire did sleep a _lot_, the times when he was awake were uncertain at best. They never knew if he would be quiet and biddable or loud and violent. The chaos created by the madwoman in front of her was having a negative effect on all the Scoobies. Xander had admitted to suffering nightmares. Ex-demon Anya was jumpy and obsessed with hiding her past. Willow was growing pale and tense as she worried whether or not the Initiative would be interested in witches. Joyce had taken over the baby monitor and had made looking after Spike her full time job, the task more wearing on her than she was willing to admit to her daughter but Buffy could see the changes. Dawn was quiet and subdued on the vampire's 'bad days' and cautiously optimistic on his 'good days'. Several conferences with Giles and Michael since the Silence had laid the groundwork for their current plan; Buffy would try to infiltrate the Initiative. She didn't like it but it was the best they could come up with aside from letting Drusilla continue to kill the soldiers. And _that_ was _not_ a plan that Buffy could condone but the Master Vampire had proven too slippery for the Slayer to catch in the act. Looking at Professor Walsh with wide green eyes, she shrugged and maintained her dumb blonde expression. "Well, I find that simple works best."

Riley found he couldn't stay quiet even though he'd promised himself he would let Buffy impress his boss on her own. "I was thinking that Buffy would be a great asset to our team."

Walsh raised an eyebrow. "Indeed." She murmured. "Well, we'll give you a short tour and talk a bit more. Then we'll see, maybe Buffy _would_ like to join our organization." She compromised. '_At least until I can figure out a way to get rid of the little bitch without causing any backlash or damage to __**my**__ project_.' Her dark thoughts never reflected on her face as she and Riley gave the Slayer a guided tour of the lesser classified sections of the facility.

**Giles' apartment….**

Michael was getting rather used to waking up with his arms full of cool feminine curves. He wasn't sure just what the vampire wanted with him but as long as she treated him as nicely as she had been, he could deal with staying with her. The other thing he'd had to deal with was her resuming her hunting of fellow Initiative soldiers. He'd managed to extract her promise that she wouldn't kill anyone who'd had nothing to do with the torture Spike had suffered but it had been difficult. There just weren't that many of them who _hadn't_ been involved. The Watcher had despairingly given up on persuading the Immortal to stop hunting. Her answer was always the same.

"They hurt my Childe. They will die."

Now he was lying on his side in the queen sized bed of Giles' guest room. His head was propped up on one hand as he watched his companion sleep. There was just enough light leaking under the bedroom curtains for him to see her profile. Drusilla was spooned comfortably against him with her back to his chest. It had been seriously disconcerting the first couple of times he'd woken up and realized that the body next to him wasn't breathing and had no heartbeat but he was getting accustomed to the feeling. So far all they had done was sleep together, with the vampire slipping into bed with him every morning a mere hour or two before dawn.

"I can hear you thinking, Pretty." The low murmur from Drusilla made Michael smile. Her British accent reminded him so much of his favorite relative. A pang shot through him at the thought. He missed her tremendously. He'd been only ten when she'd died but the memory of her remained as strong as if she had only been gone a year or two instead of more than a decade.

"Vamp hearing is that good?" He responded softly, amusement clear in the low tones.

She shifted onto her back to look up at him sleepily. A smile curved her lips. "No." She admitted.

Mike gazed down at her human features. She had silky dark hair, nearly black in color, long and flowing over her shoulders. Her icy blue eyes were now warm and soft as they gazed up at him, framed by thick dark lashes. Her lush mouth didn't ever seem to need lipstick and was proving to be a nearly irresistible temptation. Cautiously he leaned down, his blue/gray gaze focused on the red curve of her lower lip. "Ah, some form of telepathy then." He whispered just as their mouths connected.

Hazily, Mike realized that kissing a vampire was a revelation. After several nights of sleeping with her in his arms, he knew that she was closer to a cool room-temperature than cold and her mouth proved to be no different. The closest he could come to comparing the warmth and flavor of her mouth was taking a bite from a ripe peach that had been in a tabletop fruit bowl. Her taste was surprisingly sweet and a low moan rose up in the back of his throat as the kiss deepened.

His control of the situation lasted only seconds. Dru used a mere fraction of her strength to push him over until she was hovering over his boxer clad form. She pulled back from him far enough to stare intently into his eyes. An evil smile bloomed across her lips as her gaze roamed over his handsome features.

"So like my William, you are." She tilted her head as she continued to study his face. "But so very different. You have had others, yes?"

Mike swallowed in sudden apprehension and nodded very slightly. "Yes, a few." He admitted reluctantly. He'd had girlfriends, one semi-serious one in high school and had dated a bit in college. The main problem with his social life during those years had been that he was so much younger than his classmates. At that age, two or three years difference is an impassable chasm. He could feel her fingers gliding down his torso until they reached the waist of his boxers. His stomach muscles contracted as the slender digits danced along the edge the khaki cotton. Slowly, carefully, she slid her razor sharp fingernails back up his abdomen. He swallowed again. "Don't hurt me?"

She stilled, her entire body rigid with sudden tension. "Why would you think that I would hurt you, Pretty?" Her voice was gentle as she asked the question. He couldn't tell if he'd angered her or not.

"I don't _think_ you would _mean_ to but you are a _**lot**_ stronger than me." Mike whispered, his gaze dropped from hers and he bit his lower lip with an attack of anxiety.

"You could have strength such as mine." She murmured as her icy gaze drifted down to his throat.

"I'm not sure I'd like that." The former soldier's voice was barely audible.

A sad chuckle from the vampire brought his eyes sharply back up to hers. "I _know_ I wouldn't. I promised that I would not remove your spark." A tear sliding down her ivory face startled the human. "There is no guarantee that you would be as unique a vampire as my darling Spike. I don't wish to take that chance."

Mike relaxed as his hands rose from the mattress to slide around her waist. The old-fashioned shift she wore bunched slightly in his grasp as his fingers tightened. "So…." He began as she lowered her mouth back to his. "Now that that's settled, what _did_ you have planned for me?"

She halted less than an inch from his lips, her cool, unneeded breath puffed out across his skin. "Now or later." She asked.

"Ummmmm….. both?" He smiled as the infinitesimal distance decreased.

Once more she stopped, her lips nearly touching his. "Now…. I'm going to show you what more than a century of experience and do for you and later….. I'll explain that…" She smiled back at him. "later." She finished her descent and proceeded to kiss his brains out.

Several long minutes later, she rose to allow him a chance to catch his breath. Then she swung a leg over him so she could straddle his waist. He gasped at the move, his interest in the position very evident in his tented boxers. She smiled down at him lasciviously and caressed his tanned chest with elegant fingers. Panting with arousal, he gazed up at her with lust clouded eyes. Her hair curled softly over her shoulders, swaying gently as she shrugged out of her shift. The sight of her pale skin hovering over him raised his interest yet another notch. He was so focused on her abundant attributes that he failed to notice what her fingers were doing until a white-hot flash of pain yanked him out of his haze.

"Aaaahhhhhhh!" He yelped, his blue/gray eyes flew wide with shock. He watched her lower her head to lap delicately at the two inch slice she'd made in the skin just above his left nipple. "You said you wouldn't hurt me." He accused resentfully. He lowered his voice and hoped their host hadn't heard his cry of pain.

She licked her lips as she rose up slightly. "No, Pretty, I asked why you _thought_ I would. I needed to taste you. I promise that I will not hurt you any more than you can bear." She smiled and a shiver ran through his body. He just wasn't sure if the shiver was due to anticipation, lust or just plain fear. She purred slightly as she resumed her light licking of the wound she'd inflicted. "You taste soooo gooood." She wiggled down so she could remove his shorts. Then she crawled back up his body until she could kiss him deeply on the mouth.

**Summers' house….**

Michael needn't have worried about whether or not Giles could hear what was happening in the guest room. The former Watcher was sitting in the basement of Joyce's house staring at the younger man's ancestor, not that Giles knew that for sure but he had his suspicions.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Spike growled. He was sitting Indian style on his bed, hunched over with his hands clasped together on his calves. The Watcher's unswerving scrutiny was making him twitchy. "I've had enough of bloody _humans_ looking at me." His fingers clenched tighter as he wished desperately for a cigarette.

Rupert leaned forward in his chair, mentally noting Spike's increasingly nervous fidgeting. "There are some things I need to ask you."

A sneer crossed the vampire's handsome face. "Well ask then. _I'm _not getting any older but _you_ are."

A frown crossed Rupert's face as his sage green eyes blinked once in confusion. The frown cleared as he processed the statement. "Ah, yes. Well, then. What I need to know… what I want to ask about…" Not for the first time he wondered just how to approach the subject of Spike's captivity and torment. He felt uncertain, something he was unused to. He didn't like the feeling.

Spike jumped up from the cot and began to pace, irritation in his every move. The chains had been removed and Rupert had made sure there was a fully loaded tranquilizer gun close at hand. The human stood up to keep them on even ground. He watched the vampire carefully, ready for any sudden move.

"Sodding hell, Watcher! Just spit it out already! What did you want to know? Were you curious about the hell-bitch in charge of the place? Do you want to know how many ways I want her to _**die**_? Did you want to know what her little pet soldiers liked to do after she went home for the day and all good little demons were tucked into their cages? Were you wondering if their methods were any better or worse than Angelus'? Do you want to know how many times she laid me out on her cold table and poked her way in and around my naked body? Do you really _need_ to know just how many ways she found to torture me for_ I don't know__** how… fucking… long**_?" Spike's voice rose with each question until he was screaming the last few words into Giles' shocked face.

The Watcher blinked again as he stared into golden eyes. Spike had vamped midway through his tirade and Giles wasn't sure the blond was even aware of it. "Well, yes." He reached up with slightly trembling fingers and pulled his glasses off. Spike backed up a few steps and turned his back, hunching slightly as if in pain. Giles continued, "Those _are_ a few of the questions I was planning to ask."

A low bitter chuckle rumbled deep in the blond's chest as his face reverted to his human visage. "What is this? Payback for when I sat and watched Angelus play with your fragile little body?"

Shocked surprise spread over Giles' face. He concentrated on his methodical cleaning of the glasses lenses. He thought about that for several long minutes all the while watching the vampire's back stiffen until he resembled a statue. With a deep breath, he replaced his glasses and nodded to himself. He saw Spike start slightly when he spoke again. "Yes, it is payback but not for that."

Fear shuddered through Spike's thin body. He forced himself to still once more in an effort to hide his less than vampiric reaction. Yet another human that wanted something from him. Problem was, he didn't know if he had anything left to give.

**Giles' house, guest room….**

Michael lay on his back drenched with sweat that stung in the half dozen little cuts the vampire had scattered across his torso. He gasped as she rocked again, teasing him with his long-denied release. He's nearly reached the pinnacle several times but she'd done – _something_ - to stop him and he was getting desperate. He found himself pleading, his voice barely audible. "Please, Dru. I need to… ah…" He groaned again as her hands caressed his chest, rubbing the sweat deeper into the cuts. They burned. He grimaced, his teeth bared and his head pressed hard into the pillows. "God, that _hurts_." He panted as the worst of the burning faded. He'd been dumbfounded when he'd realized that the pain in no way interfered with his arousal.

"Shhhhh." Dru crooned softly as she leaned over him, placing her mouth against his ear. "It'll be all right, Pretty. Mummy will make it better soon." She smiled as she backed up enough to look into his flushed face. "It'll feel soooo good. You're going to fly." Her slender fingers fluttered over his tormented chest. "You smell divine, Pretty. So desperate, so…" She broke off as she threw her head back, her waterfall of hair spilling down her back as she sat upright again. She _twisted_ and Michael felt the urgency building yet again. "Yes, Pretty, you may please Mummy now."

Somehow that seemed to be the permission Mike's overwrought body needed. As his climax roared through his body, he was stunned to see golden eyes and fangs descending. A second release ripped through his system as needle-sharp fangs sank quickly and cleanly into his throat. There was no time to think as his world went black.

_**TBC**_


	21. Demonic Confessions

Demonic Confessions

122207

Disclaimer: I don't own them, Joss does but he said we could play here.

Summary: Secrets revealed, confessions made and more confusion abounds.

Reviews: Yes please. If y'all are still interested, by all means please review and tell me how much I suck at updating. Readers Rock but Reviewers Rule!

A/N: I wouldn't blame anyone who has lost interest in any of my insanity but I hope you will forgive me and accept this latest chapter. I have the final chapter of Resurrected in the works but RL and a fickle muse is making it difficult to do any writing. So I'm offering for all you lovely readers a holiday gift of more Demon!Spike.

May all your Holidays be Happy and that your New Year will be peaceful and profitable.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Giles' apartment, sunset…..**

Drusilla gazed down at Michael's unconscious form. She'd meant it when she'd told him that she wouldn't remove his spark. But she _**was**_ still a vampire and as such had needs that she knew her Pretty would grow to appreciate as time went by. No, she had no intention of losing this one. Her William was gone. His affections were now tied up in pretty bows for another. But still, Dru couldn't blame him. In her former mentally fragile state she hadn't been faithful. Truthfully, faithfulness was _not_ a vampiric trait so blaming it completely on her insanity wasn't quite fair. William was an anomaly, unique in his emotions, faithfulness and humanity. He'd been her work of art and his loss would be with her forever. But Michael… she drew a gentle finger down his lean face. Michael would go a long, long way towards filling the gaping hole her own foolishness had caused. An uncharacteristically soft smile graced her lovely face as the human shifted under her feather-light touch. He sighed and turned his face towards her but did not wake. She pressed a tender kiss on his broad forehead.

"Sleep well my Pet. I will return later." Dru murmured as she carefully backed away from him and rose from the warmth of the bed. She raised her head for a tense moment, pausing in her reach for her clothing. A frown creased her pretty forehead as her Childe's discomfort edged into her consciousness.

"Tell him, my William. He must know and you must say. You will never heal if you do not." She whispered too softly to disturb the sleeping human in the bed next to her. "I will come to see you soon my Childe." Swiftly and silently the Master Vampire dressed and left the Watcher's home. It was dusk and time to hunt. More soldiers were on her menu and there would be no mercy for any of them.

**Summers' basement…**

Rupert studied the tense frame of the vampire before him. He wasn't sure exactly _how_ to broach the subject of _why_ he wanted to help Spike. He still thoroughly disliked the demon but the things he'd been told by Drusilla made his blood run cold. Michael's revelation of exactly how long the blond had been held captive had horrified him. Another nearly imperceptible shudder wracked Spike's body and pulled Rupert out of his reverie. Silently, he moved over to stand behind the vampire. He raised his hand and placed it gently on one slender shoulder. He blinked, startled when Spike leapt way from the touch like a frightened cat.

Spinning on bare feet, Spike whirled around to face the threat. Game-faced and snarling, he glared at Giles who stood frozen in place with his hand hovering in the air. To Spike it appeared that the man was poised to strike and his training clicked in. His golden eyes widened in renewed fear and he retreated from the expected blow. His gaze remained locked on the hand as if trying to calculate how long it would be before it descended and connected devastating pain.

Following the wide golden gaze with his own sage green eyes, Rupert realized with a slightly sick feeling how the skittish vampire perceived his stance. He lowered his arm quickly, allowing it to drop loosely to his side. His voice softened in an attempt to keep from further frightening the vampire.

"Spike, I – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you…. I thought you had heard me approach you." The apology, while sincere, was difficult to voice.

Spike continued his slow retreat from the human although he let his game-face fade away. He watched as Giles deliberately slid his hands into his pockets as if to show that they would not be used for violence. Wary sapphire eyes tracked Giles as he moved leisurely back to stand next to the chair he'd been sitting in, increasing the distance between the two of them. The minutes stretched out until they began to jangle on Rupert's nerves before the vampire spoke again.

"I… um… don't like people sneaking up behind me." The husky voice was low and hesitant, nearly a mumble. "The soldiers… they would… do things… at night… when the White Coats were… gone for the day." A tense silence echoed in the basement for several long minutes. "The White Coats… they did… _something_ to me. My head _hurt_… when I tried to… fight back. I couldn't… fight… couldn't… _stop_ them." Spike wrapped his arms around his waist defensively as he dropped onto the edge of his cot. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, fighting to control the tears that leapt to his eyes as memories threatened to swamp him. "I couldn't… stop them from… _hurting_ me." He confessed in a choked whisper.

Giles watched the vampire, who now resembled nothing more than a badly traumatized young man, in silence for several more minutes. He saw Spike start when he spoke again.

"Michael told us that the government runs the facility. Their purpose is supposed to be controlling the demonic population. To that end they put a computer chip in your head. It's called a Behavioral Modification Chip. It's supposed to prevent you from harming humans." Giles removed his glasses as Spike's head shot up in disbelief.

"Watcher, what they're doing there has _**nothing**_ to do with '_controlling'_. They're _torturing_ demons. Experimenting on us. What they're doing there…" He broke off with a shudder. "They could give Angelus lessons." He finished quietly.

It was Giles' turn to shudder. "I know. Michael told us. He is no longer affiliated with them."

Spike tilted his head. "Michael. That's the kid from the other day, right? He was part of them." It wasn't a question. "But now he's with… Dru? I could smell her on him. How?"

Rupert sighed ruefully. "Drusilla has been killing the soldiers who tortured you." A brilliant smile lit Spike's face at the revelation but he said nothing. A slight nod from Giles acknowledged the vampire's glee. "Yes, well. Apparently she spared Michael. She tells us that he 'shares your spark'. We aren't quite sure what she means by that. I have my theories but so far Michael has not deigned to verify them."

Spike nodded. "Smart kid." He spoke almost as if talking to himself. "If Angelus ever got loose again…" He shook his head and wished almost violently for a cigarette. "It would be _very_ _**bad**_."

"Why would Angelus do anything to Michael?" Giles asked. "_Is_ Michael related to you?"

The vampire sighed. "As far as _I_ know Angelus killed my family so I don't see how that could be possible." He closed his eyes, remembering the almost painfully familiar features of the young man in question. His voice grew introspective. "Although he does smell like…" He broke off again as he realized Giles was listening avidly. He opened his eyes and glared at his companion. "Never you mind. I need to talk to the kid."

Giles sat down and contemplated Spike for several minutes. The blond was still perched on the edge of the cot as if poised to abandon the spot in an instant. Rocking slightly, he still had his arms wrapped around his too thin waist as if unable to get warm. Tiny, almost indiscernible tremors ran through the frail body although Spike seemed unaware that he _was_ still shaking.

"It's rather chilly in here. If I take you up to the kitchen for something hot to drink, will you refrain from attempting to escape?" The question surprised the Watcher almost as much as it did the vampire.

A bitter chuckle echoed through the basement. "Where would I go?"

Giles inclined his head. "Indeed." He replaced his glasses and stood. "Well, then, after you." He gestured toward the stairs.

**Giles' apartment….**

Michael woke up with a start and a groan. He'd rolled over seeking the cool form of his new lover and her absence had pulled him from his sated slumber. Shifting until he was lying on his back, he took inventory. Breath… check. Pulse… check. At least he was alive. He raised an exploratory hand to his neck. Fang holes in skin… check. Disappointment filled the former soldier. She'd _promised_. Throwing back the covers, he sat up and searched for his discarded boxers. He slid into them and stood up to find clean clothes before heading into the bathroom for a shower. There was no _way_ he was going to go visit Spike smelling like he'd just had sex with Drusilla!

As much as he was able, Mike avoided looking into his own eyes as he shaved. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about Drusilla's bite but the more he thought about it, the more pissed off he grew. She'd led him to believe that she wasn't going to harm him. That she didn't want to 'remove his spark' whatever _that_ meant. He had a feeling that he already knew. That it meant she wouldn't kill him but with the bite things had changed. He no longer trusted her, although he wasn't sure why he had in the first place. He finished shaving and brushed his teeth before getting dressed. He contemplated getting something to eat but his appetite had deserted him so he checked to make sure he had at least one stake in his jacket pocket. He strapped a knife in a sheath onto his ankle and locked the door before he took off at a slow ground-eating jog into the darkening evening.

**Summers' kitchen….**

Rupert poured himself two cups of coffee and moved to the refrigerator for some cream. "Do you take cream in your coffee, Spike?"

The vampire glanced up in surprise. "I don't like coffee, could I have some blood and then some tea instead?" He asked quietly.

The human nodded, poured the coffee out of one cup and stuck a bag of blood into the microwave. By the time he'd moved his own drink to the table, the microwave was finished so he poured the blood into the waiting cup. He set it in front of Spike just as a tap sounded on the back door. He let Michael in as Spike thumped his cup down.

"_**What**_ did you _put_ in my blood??" The outraged question wavered at the end as the vampire began gulping and gagging.

Giles blinked in surprise as Spike scrambled up from the table and dashed for the tiny bathroom under the stairs. The sounds of gut wrenching vomiting floated back into the kitchen.

Mike frowned. "What happened?" He asked as he picked up the discarded cup of blood. He sniffed it with a grimace and hastily put it back where he found it. "It smells all right."

"But I didn't _do_ anything." Giles protested. "I poured him some coffee and asked if he took cream. He said he didn't like coffee and asked for the blood instead so I poured the coffee out and replaced it with his blood. That's all."

"Did you wash the cup after you poured out the coffee?" Mike asked, suspicion that he now knew what was wrong colored the question.

"Well… no. Should I have?" Discomfited, Rupert removed his glasses and withdrew his handkerchief.

Mike nodded as Spike made his way unsteadily back to his chair. His face was paler than it had been before and tiny red dots marred the translucent skin around his eyes. Mike searched the cabinets by the stove and grinned when he found what he was looking for. He found a glass, filled it with water, spooned in some sugar and added two drops of clear liquid from the tiny brown bottle. He stirred the concoction thoroughly and set it in front of the shaky vampire. "Here." He said gently. "It's an old family remedy. It'll settle your stomach."

The scent of peppermint assaulted Spike's nose as he lifted the glass to his lips. Startled blue eyes flew wide open as he recognized the drink.

"Yes, you know what that is, don't you?" Mike asked almost too softly for Giles to hear. He knelt next to the vampire's chair. Spike nodded as he swallowed the sip he'd taken.

Joyce entered the room. "Did I hear someone throwing up?" She asked as her worried hazel eyes searched the faces of the three men.

Spike set his glass carefully back onto the table. "That was me." He admitted. "Watcher tried to poison me." The comment was casually made without rancor.

"I did no such thing." Giles protested. "I don't even know what it was I did wrong."

Joyce rushed over to Spike's unoccupied side. "Are you all right?" She brushed her fingers gently over his hair.

"I'm ok." His voice was huskier than it had been before and pain shot through the woman's heart.

"What are you drinking?" She covered her reaction by taking Spike's glass and sniffing the contents.

"I hope you don't mind but I made him some peppermint water to settle his stomach. It's an old family remedy." Mike spoke up as he rose from his crouch and moved a chair over to sit in.

"No. I don't mind at all. I surprised someone as young as you would know about that." Joyce smiled at Mike.

"My Grammy Em always used it when anyone had an upset stomach. She swore by it." Mike admitted with a smile.

Giles settled his highly polished glasses back onto his nose. "I'd really like to know what it was I did wrong." He folded his arms defensively over his chest.

"You didn't rinse the coffee out of Spike's cup. I told you that." Mike reiterated.

"So you said but what difference does that make?" Now Giles was curious.

Mike stood, took the offending cup of blood from the table and moved to the sink to rinse it out. He got a new bag from the refrigerator and placed it in the microwave. "How long do you set this for?" He asked Joyce, earning a glare from Giles.

"Ninety seconds." She answered. A gleam entered her eyes as she recognized a fellow passive-aggressive tormentor.

"The problem with that is when someone is allergic to coffee even what's left over from pouring it out of a cup will make them sick." Mike stated as he pushed buttons.

"But Spike only said he didn't like coffee. He never said he was allergic." Rupert protested. His agile mind recalled his previous conversation with Michael about his family's tendency towards that very same allergy.

"Do you always admit _your_ weaknesses?" Mike asked with amusement as he removed the blood from the microwave and refilled the freshly washed cup.

Spike accepted his fresh cup of blood and sipped it cautiously. His mind was stuck on what Mike had said earlier. '_Grammy_ _**Em**_.' It wasn't possible. Was it? Could _she_ have survived? If she had, how could this kid have known her? She would have had to have been over one hundred years old before he was even born. He was what… 20? 22? Was she still alive? No, that was impossible. He himself had died 120 years ago and _she_ had been six years old then. Had Angelus somehow failed in his mission to completely destroy William's family? He ignored the others as they discussed whether or not he should have admitted to his allergy. For that matter, how _did_ the kid know about coffee allergies? It was not a common ailment. In all his years he'd only known one other person who suffered the same allergy and he'd been human at the time. Granted, he normally hadn't gotten to know humans enough to find out what their likes, dislikes and allergies were, people were food, plain and simple, but still, as far as he knew, coffee allergy was rare.. He risked a glance up at Mike and stopped to stare. The kid had forgotten his unnaturally green contacts so his blue/gray eyes sparkled with intelligence as he bickered with Giles. Spike's own blue gaze roamed over the high cheekbones, the fair skin and pointy chin of the younger human. Were it not for the burgundy hair, Spike felt he might have been looking at a century old photo. Mike turned towards the counter that held the coffee maker and Spike's jaw dropped. He set his empty cup down with another thump.

"You let Dru _**bite**_ you? Are you _insane_?" The young man had not been turned. Spike could tell that much from the three heartbeats he could hear in the room. He stood up, stalked over, grabbed his nephew by the arm, spun him around and used his free hand to yank aside Mike's t-shirt collar.

Mike snarled, bringing his free arm up and knocking the hand off his shirt. "It's not like I _asked_ for it. She said she wouldn't hurt me and then she did." His anger at Drusilla had returned with the blond's accusation. He pulled but couldn't dislodge the hand grasping his other arm tightly.

The vampire leaned even closer and sniffed. He could smell the blood from the small cuts Drusilla had inflicted on the boy but that wasn't _all_ he could smell. "_You_ _**slept**_ _with_ _her_?" He scowled as a flare of jealousy speared his heart. "You _are_ crazy." He let go of Mike with a slight shove of dismissal and backed away a step.

"Ok, what part of 'I didn't ask' did you not hear?" Mike shot back heatedly as he regained his balance. "Like I'm gonna win a fight with a vampire." His anger receded slightly as he shifted uncomfortably. His hand rose to cover the bite on his neck. "You of all people should know how she is."

"Yes, I _do_ know." Spike admitted. "Tell me, _Boy_. Did she say she _wouldn't_ hurt you or that she didn't _want_ to? Think carefully."

"She said she didn't want to but that she needed a taste." Michael confessed. His anger returned. "Then she hurt me… a lot and bit me. How can I trust her now?"

"You don't." Spike told him flatly, blue eyes boring into gray/blue. "_**Never**_ trust her. But if she says she won't turn you, she won't. She _will_ hurt you but never turn you."

"But why bite me?" Mike asked plaintively as his flash of anger faded.

The vampire sighed and ran slender fingers though his ungelled hair as he turned away from the human. "She marked you. Now you're safe from other vampires and demons. No one will dare mess with you now. They'd have her to answer to."

Mike gulped. "She _claimed_ me?" His eyes were wide as he stared in shock as his ancestor.

Spike shook his head. "No, not yet. She just marked you as hers. But you're not a pet either. Since she did it during sex she's laying the groundwork to make you her consort." He walked back to the table, suddenly very tired. "It's more than she ever did for me." The last was a bitter, barely audible whisper of sound.

Michael realized with a sinking feeling that Giles and Joyce had witnessed the exchange and now knew he was sleeping with a vampire. Discomfited, he turned back to the cabinet to find a cup. He poured it full of coffee and added liberal spoonfuls of sugar. Taking the drink back to the table, he sat down next to Spike.

The vampire noticed the contents of Mike's cup with a sinking heart. "You drink coffee." The statement was flat.

A nod of the dyed head acknowledged the comment. "Yup, Mama said it was a recessive gene from way back somewhere or maybe an aberration from my dad's side but I'm the only one other than my Uncle George who can drink the stuff." He shrugged with a wry smile. He winked at Spike. "But then, Uncle George married into the family. All the blood relatives have the problem though."

"I see." Spike settled back to consider that. An entire family that shared the same allergy. The odds were astronomical. Long practice kept his face and eyes expressionless as hope swelled in his unbeating heart.

"Well." Joyce had straightened during the confrontation and now moved over to the refrigerator. "It's past time I made dinner." She declared as she pulled some defrosted chicken out and found a baking pan. With quick movements she seasoned the meat and slid it into the oven.

She found some frozen vegetables and put them in a pot to heat then filled the kettle with water for tea. A tin of biscuits was next to come out of the refrigerator and she placed them evenly on a cookie sheet she took out of a drawer at the bottom of the stove. Then she set up a tray with a china tea pot and cups. As Spike had taught her over a year before, she measured loose tea to prepare it 'properly'.

Giles cleared his throat as he sat down at the table. "Spike." He began quietly. "Earlier you asked me if I was looking for payback."

Wary blue eyes rose to focus on the Watcher. "Yeah, what about it? I don't have anything to give." Spike returned his attention back to his empty blood cup wishing he had the courage to get up and get more as he used to do _before_. It was one of the things from _before_ that he _did_ remember. The one thing he was hiding from them all, the one thing that scared him nearly as much as the thought of _that_ _place,_ was that Maggie Walsh's experiments had created gaps in his memory. There were gaps in the time _before_ that he simply could not remember. He hoped with all his unbeating heart that none of the humans would discover that he was even more messed up than they knew.

"That's the thing." Giles took a sip from his own cup and grimaced at the cold coffee. "I don't want anything _from_ you." He confessed. "I'm trying to repay you for saving my life." Silence filled the room as the words faded away.

"_**What**_?!?" Spike yelled when the statement sank in. "_When_ in bloody _hell_ did I do something as _**daft**_ as _**that**_??"

_**TBC**_


	22. Demonically Selective Amnesia

Demonically Selective Amnesia

020508

Disclaimer: At the risk of repeating myself… I own nothing. Nothing I say! Well… maybe Mike.

Summary: Just how many of Spike's memories are missing in action? He and Mike get a little better acquainted.

Reviews: Yes please. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!

A/N: Psssssst… don't tell but this is the second update in two months. Could it be that my muse is back? We'll know for sure if I get any farther on Resurrected! Contrary to appearances Resurrected has NOT been abandoned. I just _suck_ at fight scenes. The last chapter has been started and I take a peek at it almost daily. Work on it… no. Peek at it… yes.

This chapter is mostly unbeta'd. Thank you so much, WayWard Childe for your much missed and highly valued opinions, ideas and assistance.

I know this chapter is rather short but it stopped in a good place… Just don't stake me, ok?

Communication grid:

"xx" – spoken aloud

'xx' – thoughts

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Rupert frowned as Spike's exclamation echoed through the kitchen. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation but Buffy shoved the swinging door open before the words could form.

"Did I hear Spike yell?" She asked, shoving one hand through her long blonde hair with exhausted exasperation. She'd just gotten home and was tired. Her green gaze settled on the vampire sitting at the table. "What is he doing up here?" The question was accompanied by a stake appearing in her hand from a pocket.

Mike rose from his chair and placed himself between the slayer and his uncle. "What do you figure to do with that thing?" He asked with quiet menace.

"My job if it comes to it." The petite blonde frowned at the former soldier.

"Buffy, we agreed that we would _not_ be staking Spike." Giles reminded her wearily. "Now, may we please continue our conversation in peace?"

Spike clutched at his empty cup and tried to ignore the slayer and the scent that she carried. He could tell when she'd been with the soldier they called Riley. He hunched his shoulders and shrank into himself a bit as the odor of _**that**_ _**place**_ wafted over him. An involuntary shudder shook his thin frame.

Joyce, whose attention was invariably focused on the blond vampire whenever they were in the same room, noticed the shudder. She moved towards her older daughter. "Buffy, let's go in the living room and let them talk." She suggested gently.

"Why is he out of the basement?" Buffy asked again as she refused to move.

Joyce gave up after a second failed shove. "Don't cause trouble. I've got to go make sure Dawn is doing her homework." She pointed a finger at Mike. "_You_ play nice." She commanded, well aware that the former soldier loved to wind up her eldest daughter. Mike inclined his head in acknowledgment of the directive.

"I will if she will." He promised solemnly as Joyce left the room. She would have stayed if she'd seen the evil gleam that lit his eyes.

"It's cold in down there and I wanted a hot drink." Giles told Buffy calmly as he returned the conversation to the Slayer's question.

"Then get a space heater. I don't like him being up here." Buffy retorted but she put the stake back into her pocket.

"Too bad." Mike crossed his arms over his chest. His arm muscles bulged with the movement and his blue/gray eyes narrowed at her renewed hostile attitude towards the helpless vampire. He'd gone from relaxed to intimidating in seconds.

"Why do you care again?" The Slayer's green gaze swept over Mike's resolute stance.

"And that would be none of your business." He leaned towards her and lowered his voice so it wouldn't carry into the next room. "Why don't you go take a shower? Even _I_ can smell that cheap aftershave that Finn likes." Mike grinned evilly as the Slayer blushed. 'Buffy Baiting' had become Mike's favorite game over the past few days and he indulged in it as often as he could. "Been playing soldier again, Buffy? You'd never get through basic." His grin widened as she glared at him. "Or were you only playing _with_ the soldier?"

"Have I mentioned today that I _really_ _don't_ _**like**_ you?" Buffy hissed as she turned to stomp out of the room.

"Nope, but now that you have my day is complete." Mike's laughing response followed her through the doorway. Her growl of frustration floated back through the opening. He jumped back with a snicker as the door predictably swung backwards violently.

Giles sighed as he got up to pour himself some fresh coffee. "My boy, I don't know anyone that makes her mad faster than you."

Mike bowed slightly before reseating himself next to Spike. "Thank you, kind sir. It is truly a gift bestowed upon me by my distant ancestors." In an undertone only Spike could hear, he continued. "As well as the not so distant ones." He merely grinned wider at the startled look he earned from the blond. He noticed the death grip his uncle had on his empty mug. "Do you want more?" He asked gently.

Rupert turned towards the table when he heard the softly spoken question. As he noted the vampire's hesitant nod, he moved back to the refrigerator to get out another bag of blood to heat. Mike pried the cup from Spike's tight grasp and held it up for the Watcher to take. Soon all three males were seated at the table sipping warm beverages.

Giles cleared his throat. Spike tensed at the sound. The older man noticed the involuntary reaction. "What did you mean earlier?" Rupert asked quietly.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about." The vampire stated defensively. 'Damn it. Damn it. _Damn_ _it_!' He wanted to pound something as frustration began to build. Why couldn't he keep his damned mouth _shut_?

"Yes, you do." The human was adamant. "Downstairs earlier you mentioned the time Angelus tortured me. You asked if this was payback for watching him do it. If you remember that how is it that you _don't_ remember saving my life?"

Spike searched his splotchy memories. He clearly recalled watching his grand-sire torturing the Watcher, could hear the frustration that had driven the insane version of Angelus ever crazier as he fumed over his inability to uncover what he wanted to know but… He frowned. That's where the memory stopped. What _had_ happened next? His hand began to shake, rattling his cup against the table. He let go of the mug abruptly and wrapped both his arms around his slender waist.

All of Mike's good humor over riling the Slayer vanished when his uncle's distress intensified. "Spike? Are you all right?" He kept his voice low and soothing.

Giles pressed on. "You struck a deal with Buffy to stop Angelus from opening Acathla." He paused when the vampire began to shake his head in denial. "Yes, you did." He continued determinedly. "Angelus wanted to use a chainsaw on me. _You_ stopped him." Mike's head jerked around sharply as his attention was yanked away from Spike. He stared at Giles, wide-eyed. Despite all their recent conversations, this was new information.

"No." The vampire muttered. "I don't remember that. I wouldn't do that. A deal with the Slayer? Are you daft?" His voice grew more agitated with each sentence. "Do you know what Angelus would do to someone who stopped him from doing what he wanted? Bad enough I was stuck in that sodding chair. No." He stopped talking and began to shake his head vehemently in denial. 'This is all _her_ fault.' He thought bitterly. '_Her_ and her sodding little soldier boys.' The scowl on his face deepened and his demon screamed to the surface.

Mike turned his attention back to the trembling vampire. "Spike?" He blinked when the blond shoved his chair away from the table in a sharp, violent motion. Golden eyes glared with hatred at the former soldier.

"You're one of _them_." The accusation was hissed through fangs. 'Want to kill them _all_.' The murderous thought caused a warning twinge from his chip but that only fueled his anger.

Mike shook his head. "No. Not any more." He denied softly. 'What the _hell_?' Mike's own thoughts were confused.

"Do you _know_ what _she_ did?" Spike growled out the question as he stood up to pace. 'He has to know… doesn't he?' His certainty wavered for a bare second.

"Not all of it." Mike admitted as he stood as well, making sure he faced his uncle at all times. "They took me off all containment duty. They kept me out of the labs." He added silently, 'Kept me away from you.'

"You were _**there**_!" The troubled vampire insisted. "You _**know**_!"

"_**No**_!" Mike's voice rose as he struggled to stay patient. "I _**don't**_. As soon as I realized what they were doing… Before I figured out…." He caught himself before he said too much, heaved a sigh and continued. "I asked for a transfer but then I was _glad_ they turned me down."

Spike growled. "You wanted to leave me there." The irrational accusation stung the younger man and he shook his head. "_Who_ _**are**_ _you_?" His voice rose until he was nearly shouting at the human.

Giles' interest perked up at this unexpected turn of events. He sat forward and tightened his fingers on his still warm coffee cup. 'Now maybe I can find out just how Michael is related to William the Bloody.' He mused to himself.

"I told you the other day." Mike prevaricated, still aware of their audience although he was certain his uncle had forgotten. 'Come on Uncle Will. Not _now_.' His silent appeal went unanswered.

Spike stopped in front of Michael. His golden eyes bored into stormy blue/gray ones. "_Tell_ _me_" He growled. 'I _need_ to know _**now**_.' He didn't voice the entreaty.

Mike stubbornly shook his head. "What else don't you remember?" He asked instead.

It was all Giles could do to keep from groaning aloud. He desperately wanted to know what Michael's connection to Spike was.

The sound of the raised voices drew the Slayer back into the room. Spike snarled at her, fangs flashing, before fleeing to the safety of the basement. Mike glared at her for a half a second before chasing after the unstable vampire.

Rupert removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, that couldn't have gone better." He commented sardonically.

"What did?" Buffy asked as she removed a soda from the refrigerator.

The Watcher sighed as more shouting could be heard through the slightly open door. "I was trying to explain to Spike why I'm helping him."

The blonde grimaced. "Why did that cause all the noise?"

"Because he doesn't remember doing it." Giles replaced his glasses as he answered her. "It appears that there may be gaps in his memory."

Buffy sat down in sudden exhaustion. "I miss the good old days when I could just slay the damned vampires and be done with them. Now we're worrying about the ones with souls, the tortured ones with chips and the semi-sane ones who just want to help. What kind of demon are we gonna start baby sitting next?"

"Well, there _is_ a small demon that is considered cute by some cultures. Whether or not you'd want it as a pet would depend on how much you value your shoes as they are inordinately fond of snacking on expensive ladies footwear. It looks rather like a cross between a terrier and a guinea pig." The snark came from nowhere and was spoken in such a completely serious tone of voice that it took several seconds for it to sink into the slayer's brain. Her jaw dropped and she gaped foolishly at her Watcher.

Joyce swept into the room so she could prevent her dinner from burning. "Close your mouth dear, you'll catch flies." She told her daughter calmly. Her hazel gaze scanned the room. "Where are the boys?"

Buffy obediently closed her mouth… for all of two seconds. She turned towards Giles and silently asked, "The _boys_?" He could only shrug. All of them winced when the volume of the argument beneath them intensified.

Joyce removed the chicken from the oven and placed the pan of biscuits in to bake. "Ah, there they are, in the basement. Why are they arguing?" The question had just been uttered when the shouting abruptly ceased.

**In the basement…..**

As Mike descended the stairs at breakneck speed he wondered what in Hell he was going to say to his dangerously unstable ancestor. He paused at the base of the stairs and watched Spike pace agitatedly for a minute. He blinked when the vampire appeared directly in front of him.

"_Who_ _in_ _bloody_ _hell_ _**are**_ _you_?" The question was close to being shouted. 'Tell me. Not knowing is driving me crazier than I already am.' The thought scared him.

"I _told_ you _already_! Did you forget?" Mike pressed forward into the room causing Spike to back up. "What else are you forgetting?" His tone nearly matched the vampire's. Somewhere in the back of his brain he was thanking all the Gods that the redheaded witch had cast a silencing spell on the basement. He didn't notice that the door at the top of the stairs had failed to close completely.

"_Nothing_! Ok? I haven't forgotten _anything_! Leave me alone." The vampire crossed his arms around his waist defensively and paced away from the human. 'If you're not gonna tell me, just go _away_.'

"_I can't leave you alone_!" Mike shouted. "_I_ _promised myself that I'd do everything I could to make you better._" He ground his teeth in frustration. 'God _damn_ it! Don't make me do this now!'

"_Why_?" There was audible anguish in the single word. '_Please_, _please_.' His mind refused to process past that plea.

"_Because it's what __**she**__ would have wanted_." Mike tried but couldn't seem to lower his voice. His frustration with his hard-headed uncle was making him rash.

Spike got right back up in Mike's face. "_Who would have wanted_? _Huh_? _Tell me_!_ Who is this mysterious 'she' you're doing this for_?_ Dru_?" His respect for the human reluctantly growing at Mike's refusal to back down.

Mike grasped Spike's upper arms and shoved the vampire away but didn't release him right away. "_No_, _not_ _Dru_. _I didn't want to tell you yet. I wanted to wait. Mr. Giles wants to know just a little too much for my taste._"

Spike knocked his nephew's hands off his biceps before once again invading the younger man's personal space. "_And just how __**long**__ were you willing to wait_? _Until I'm even loonier than I am now_? _I know I've gone around the twist_. _You were __**there**_. _You __**know**__ what she did to me_. _It would make __**anyone**__ bug shagging crazy_." His voice rose again into a full blown shout.

"_I __**don't**__ know everything she did. Most of what I know is what I overheard from the other guys. I'm sorry, Uncle Will_….." Mike broke off when Spike's golden eyes widened and he backed away from the human. 'Oh _fuck_.'

"_**Don't call me that**_!" The vampire yelled desperately as he increased the distance between them. 'It's not true. It _**can't**_ be true. Don't build up my hopes like that. _Please_.'

"_**Why not**_? _It's who you __**are**_!" Mike countered with his own yell, frustration making him incautious.

"_**It's not possible**_! _**No **__**one**__ lived_!_ Angelus made sure of it. He killed __**everyone**__ I loved_." Spike dropped his game-face and bent forward at the waist slightly as if in pain, his arms once more wrapped tightly around his thin waist. 'They're all _gone_. They were _murdered_ over a century ago.' Long remembered anguish returned with the memory and tears welled in his blue eyes.

"_No_, _he_ _**didn't!**_ _Uncle Will, __**Emily **__**lived!**_" As his last shout died away, Mike's blinked as his eyes filled with his own emotions. He stood tensed; his hands clenched at his sides, every instinct screaming for him to reach out to his long lost relative but stopped by the instability of the vampire's emotional state.

Spike's head snapped up at Mike's shouted revelation. Sudden silence fell over the spacious basement as damp blue/gray eyes collided tear filled sapphire ones.

_**TBC**_


	23. Demonic Past Revealed

Demonic Past Revealed

022908

Disclaimer: I own Mike but not Spike although owning both of them would be fun.

Summary: Questions are answered.

Reviews: Yes please. Encouraged, craved and cherished. Readers Rock but Reviewers RULE!!!!

A/N: Yes, it's another chapter! Don't y'all fall over from the shock of it now.

Many of the ideas for this chapter were in the initial conversations with WayWard Childe at the beginning of this fic so much of the credit for content goes to him. Thanks for the input, Partner!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Mike watched, unable to move for reasons he couldn't name, as the shock swept through his uncle's frail body. Spike slipped to the floor as if his legs could no longer support his weight. He pulled his knees up to his chest and the two-toned head fell forward onto them. Slender shoulders heaved, once and then once more before falling still again. Finally, Spike looked back up at the waiting young man.

"But… but Angelus told me… he took malicious delight in…" He gulped and rubbed away a tear from his face. "He described in great detail what he did to the little girl he found in my house." His voice faded as he finished the sentence and his blue eyes sought Mike's gaze pleadingly.

"_No_." Mike finally regained his mobility and rushed forward to squat next to the vampire. "My God, Uncle Will, that _wasn't_ Emily. It was _Erin_, the housekeeper's daughter. Remember? She was Emily's best friend. She was there helping her mother clean the house that day. They were still there when the night fell and…" He stopped for a moment as Spike's eyes widened.

"_Erin_." He breathed. "I remember her. She was Emmy's age." The blue eyes were distant as he fought to pull up memories of a time he'd tried for decades to forget. "She… she had black hair and… and green eyes." His hand shot out with vampiric speed and grasped Mike's wrist. "Emmy _lived_? She _**really**_ _lived_? _**How**_?"

Mike settled on the floor, sitting cross-legged, facing Spike and allowed the shaken immortal to retain his grip on his arm. Instead of trying to free himself, he gently covered the cool fingers - that were not _quite_ painful on his wrist - with his own warm hand, idly noticing the similarities between the two. Long elegant fingers with squarish fingernails, slender palms and bony wrists, the major difference was in skin tone. Mike's own hand was lightly tanned while Spike's was very pale, nearly translucent, his veins visible. "I don't know what happened to Grandmother Anne. Grammy Em was never able to find out..." Again the reaction from his ancestor caused him to pause in what he was saying. Spike had flinched hard and hidden his face in his knees again. The hand still grasping the human's wrist tightened until it was difficult for Mike to control the wince. "What is it?" He asked Spike quietly. The vampire mumbled something into his legs. Mike frowned, puzzled. "What did you say?"

Spike raised his head, face turned away from Mike, grief and shame written on the finely boned features. "I said, 'I killed her'." His accented voice was still very quiet but the words rang out as if they'd been shouted.

The younger man stiffened in shock. "_**What**_? _How_? _**Why**_?" His fingers tightened on Spike's hand as the vampire tried to pull away. "_Stop_ _**fighting**_, you're gonna hurt me and hurt _yourself_ in return. Just tell me what _happened_." His tone brooked no argument.

Spike sniffed, his free arm tightened around his legs. He rested his head on his knees, face turned towards Mike this time, his blue eyes dull and saddened. "Did you know Mum was ill?" His voice had softened into the more refined accent of his human life. Mike nodded but otherwise remained silent. "I was strong, confident for the first time in my life. A whole new world had opened up to me. No one messed with me. I was _immortal_." He grimaced at his own youthful arrogance. "I wanted to make Mother better. I wanted to show her my new world, travel with her and keep her with me forever. I… I…" He stopped and gulped a few times. His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I turned her into a vampire."

"_God_." Mike breathed, shock suffusing the soft sound.

Spike shook his head and inhaled deeply. "_He_ had nothing to do with it. Something went wrong. She wasn't like me. I still felt like _**me**_, you know? Me but _better_. I wanted that for her." His soft voice pleaded for understanding. "But she was different. She was cruel. She said things… horrible, nasty things. That _thing_ was _not_ my mother." Tears began to run freely down the thin face that rested sideways on sweatpants clad knees. "I had to stake her." The confession rushed out and he quickly turned away from the hatred he knew he'd see in the face so like his own. He braced for the torrent of angry condemnation. What he actually heard shocked him badly. He heard the sound of denim rasping on the concrete as the man shifted on the floor, he felt the hand grasping his own tighten again as the arm Spike still held moved to wrap around upraised knees and then he heard a soft, barely muffled sob. He turned his face back towards his nephew, stunned. Mike had shifted until he mirrored Spike's position but next to the vampire rather than in front of him, his burgundy head bowed over his upraised knees, his shoulders shaking as he wept.

Spike reached his free hand over and let it hover over the dyed curls for a moment before letting it flutter uselessly back down to his own leg. "I'm so sorry." He whispered. "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to… I wanted…"

Mike caught his breath in an attempt to cease his sobbing. He shook his head causing Spike to frown. He inhaled and raised his head, tears still streaming down his sharp cheekbones. "No. Don't apologize. You couldn't have known. She wasn't the one who was different. _You_ were."

Spike nodded sadly keeping his eyes downcast. "Yeah, I know. I figured that out… later."

Mike took his hand off the cool one still wrapped around his arm and wiped at his face. He cleared his throat but when he spoke the words were still husky with emotion. "Grammy Em went to live with your Aunt Jane three months before…" He paused for a second to compose himself again, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"Before I died." Spike finished it for him and Mike nodded.

"But no one knew that. There were no bodies. Both of you just… disappeared." Mike sighed. "Remember when Grandmother Anne started to really decline?"

Spike thought for a moment and then understanding dawned as he remembered. "Yes." He whispered. "Mother couldn't take care of Emmy and I'd been home from university just couple of months and was still trying to find a job. Emmy was only six and very active. It broke her heart to leave us, leave Erin. Broke my heart too, I didn't want her to go. But Aunt Jane had children who were a few years older but still were closer to her in age than I was." He smiled suddenly. "That's how Angelus missed her. Aunt Jane lived so far away and she was Mother's sister so her last name was different." His fingers tightened on Mike's arm again. "Is she still alive?" Because of the tone of the conversation, he forgot for a moment how very long it _had_ been.

Mike's face dropped the smile that had begun to form when Spike had started to figure it out. He shook his head, sorrow clouding his blue/gray eyes. "She died ten years ago when I was ten." He murmured. "She was 116 years old."

"_Fuck_." There was awe in the single profanity and it struck Mike as funny. He snickered.

"Don't tell Mama but that's what Grammy Em said just before she died." His snickers morphed into full fledged laughter at the shock on his uncle's face.

"She said _what_?" Spike was incredulous.

Mike tried to control his chuckles. "Yeah, she lived with us, or rather, we lived with _her_. It _was_ her house after all. She woke up one morning and didn't feel well so she stayed in bed. It wasn't something she did often but enough that we didn't think anything of it. She was very active for her age but she had her ups and downs. She must have known that this time was different though. I was home from school, summer vacation and all, so instead of going out and hanging around with my friends I stayed home to run errands for her and keep her company." Mike's eyes grew hazy as he recalled his last day with his favorite relative, the memory as clear as if it had been ten days rather than ten years. "She lived in the States for almost a hundred years but she never, ever lost her accent." He smiled. "On that last day, she kept me close, telling me stories of her big brother, Will."

He glanced at the wide-eyed vampire. "She idolized you. She absolutely _loved_ that I'd been born on your birthday. It nearly devastated her when you and your mum disappeared. No one could ever tell her what happened to either of you and it haunted her. I'd walk in on her and she'd be looking out of the window as if waiting for you to come up the sidewalk for a visit. I don't think she ever quite gave up hope of seeing you again. Aunt Jane kept the other murders from her as long as possible but eventually she'd had to be told what had happened to Erin. I'd heard the stories all of my life but never, ever considered telling her to stop, I loved them and I loved listening to her talk. It was all old history, long past but she always spoke as if everything she told me was recent. Like I could go to London and meet everyone instead of all of them being dead and gone." He paused, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes briefly. "Well, not _all _ofthem." He corrected himself gazing seriously at Spike.

"But what in bloody hell would cause her to say _that_?" Spike quietly demanded.

Mike snickered again. "She was a beautiful woman, she carried that beauty all of her life. She always looked much younger than she actually was. When she realized that the end was near, to use a cliché, she looked me dead in the eye and said," He paused and then affected a higher tone of voice with a refined British accent. "Well _fuck_. I'm going to meet my maker and I didn't have the strength to curl my hair."

Spike shivered at hearing the nearly – although inadvertent – perfect imitation of his mother's voice. Mike raised an eyebrow at the involuntary motion, noting it for later and returned to his normal southern tinged baritone. "That was the one and only time I ever heard her cuss." He laughed again but this time tears accompanied the laughter and after a second of surprise, Spike joined him.

After a few minutes, when the laughing died down to a few soggy chuckles, Mike inhaled. He continued his story, voice husky with grief. "She died about an hour after that. She hugged me, ran her fingers through my hair ever so gently, told me she loved me and then just closed her eyes. I thought she was napping so I tip-toed out and left her in peace. I was ten, what did I know, right? It wasn't until Mama went in later to see if she wanted supper that we knew she was gone." More tears trickled down the human's face. "She was my best friend. I adored her and I miss her every… single… day." His tear filled blue/gray eyes met equally full sapphire ones. "Just like she missed _you_… every… single… _day_."

Spike nodded. His face tightened and he dried it with his free hand, the other still clasped securely, forgotten, around his nephew's wrist. His voice was hushed as he spoke. "Tell me about… about you and that _place_."

"At first… I didn't know who you were. I just knew that I hated what they were doing to you and the rest of the beings they had caged up in there. I wanted out." Mike sighed deeply and wiped his face. "I used to listen to you after… after… when you'd be asleep… recovering. You'd talk. You'd ask for Joyce and home and then… _then_ one night you cried for Emmy and I _knew_. I'm not sure how I did but I _knew_. You had my _face_, you knew _my_ Grammy and I _knew_ what you were. I didn't know how or why but you were _family_. Once I realized _who_ you were and that you were a vampire, I wanted to get you out but didn't know how. Then they _let_ you escape and I heard Finn and some of the others gloating about how well the chip was working. They were thrilled that you were _starving_."

Mike's husky voice took on a vicious note and his fists clenched, the muscles of his arm tensing under Spike's hand. "I had to cover it but I wanted to pound them all for the way they were talking. I wanted to go in there, tear open their heads with my bare hands and put chips in _them_. Let _their_ brains get fried when they tried to eat. I _hated_ them. I wanted to make them _suffer_ for hurting my _family_. But I _couldn't_. I had to pretend nothing was wrong." Bitterness tainted the southern accent. "No one suspected a thing, I'm that good. But I had to be a good little soldier boy and go out to _search_ for you. Then the guys started dying. A vampire was systematically draining the men who were out looking for you. I was _praying_ the chip had failed and that it was _you_ doing it."

He paused and tilted his head in a gesture Spike recognized as his own. "Is that evil? To _hope_ that a vampire could kill?" He shrugged and sighed again. "But it wasn't you, it was Miss Drusilla. She found me out on patrol. She was killing everyone else and I honestly thought I was _dead_ but she just sniffed my neck, put me in some sort of thrall and took me with her." He stopped, unsure of what else to tell the vampire.

Spike nodded thoughtfully and gazed silently at the far wall of the basement. Something the boy had said earlier came back to him. He blinked and brought his gaze back to the redhead. "Wait… back up… you were born on _my_ birthday?"

Mike gave a sheepish smile. "Yup." He admitted. "Grammy Em wanted to name me 'William' because of it but Mama put her foot down although she did compromise by making my middle name 'Adler'. That was one of Grammy's iron clad rules; at least one male in each generation to have 'William' and one with 'Adler' as part of their name."

"Thank God for Mama is all I can say for you. Growing up with 'William' as a name is no picnic." Spike muttered.

Mike snorted. "Ain't that the truth. There _was_ a kid in my class named 'William'. I didn't make fun of him, Grammy would have kicked my ass, but a lot of the others did. Kids are just _mean_. I've never seen a demon as evil as some of the kids I went to school with." He shivered, the cold of the concrete floor seeping through his denim jeans. "She didn't tolerate anyone being cruel to anyone or anything. She was the original peacemaker. Everyone was equal in her eyes."

Spike noticed the shiver. "Are you cold?"

The human shook his head. "Nah, warm as toast." He deadpanned. "But I _am_ hungry."

A startled laugh burst from the Brit. "Guess the Slayer _should_ put a heater in here. Gotta keep you humans healthy. Sick ones taste just awful." He frowned. "Dru would kick _my_ ass if I let you get sick." He gave the wrist he finally realized he was _still_ holding a little squeeze, let go of it and got ready to get up.

Mike beat him to it, rising gracefully to his sneaker-shod feet and extending his hand to his uncle. "Come on, old man."

Spike grabbed the helping hand and let himself get hauled up from the floor before the men separated. "Old _man_? _Old_ _**man**_? I am _not_ old! You _do_ realize that I'm a _vampire_, right? Not only can I …" He was interrupted before he could really get his tirade going.

"You're one hundred and forty five years old, all totaled, and I don't care how you count it, that's freakin' _**old**_!" Mike's blue/gray eyes sparkled with the joy of having found his Grammy's beloved, much mourned brother. Happy that is his secret was out, to the one person that mattered at least. "But to be fair, there _is_ furniture back home that's a _little_ older than you are."

Spike glared at the human. "Disrespectful brat." He grumbled.

"Taught by the best, my Grammy, who – I'm told – learned from your cousin Daniel." Mike agreed cheerfully.

A growl from the vampire earned an amused glance from the former soldier. "I guess you remember him." Mike commented with a smirk.

"Yeah, he was the main reason I didn't want Emmy going to live there. He's one I wish I _had_ gone back and eaten. He was a complete tosser." Spike snarled. His eyes flashed gold before shifting back to sapphire blue.

"I know. Grammy spent a lot of time growing up defending herself. She got _really_ good at it." Mike's reminiscent smile and tone of voice reflected an enormous amount of respect for his grandmother's survival tactics. A thought occurred to him and he sobered slightly. "Do you want to tell the others? About how we're connected that is?" He nodded as Spike started to shake his head slowly. "Okay. What about your memory? You didn't tell me how much of it was missing. Are they all vampire memories or are the human ones affected too?"

Spike shuddered. "I don't know exactly _what's_ missing. I have no reference points. I didn't want _anyone_ to know. Just means I'm more of a mess than anyone thought."

"Maggie Walsh needs to burn in hell." Mike muttered, animosity in every syllable of the statement.

"That her name?" Spike asked quietly, grimly.

"Yeah." Nothing more seemed to be needed and they turned towards the stairs with identical twists of lean bodies.

Most of the way up, Mike stopped and grasped Spike's arm loosely. "Fuck, the door was open. Wonder how much they heard." He whispered

The vampire paused on the step above the human. "Don't know, mate. Guess we'll find out in a couple of minutes though." He answered, his tone as hushed as Mike's. He started to move again but Mike's fingers tightened and he stopped. "What?"

"Just that…" Mike took a moment to figure out how to say what he wanted without pissing off the still rather unstable demon. He gazed up at the wary blue eyes of his uncle and changed his mind about what he'd first meant to say. "Better let me go through the door first." An evil glint lit his blue/gray eyes and he raised his voice a bit. "Never know when Buffy will be stupid enough to stand behind it. Don't want to hit her with the door and get a migraine, do you?"

"Might be worth it." Spike replied, his voice raised as well.

Both of them snickered at the muffled, indignant "Hey!" that they heard through the slightly open doorway. Footsteps pattered away from the entry and they continued up the stairs, Mike now in the lead.

This time it was Spike grasping a bicep and halting their progress, barely more than two steps away from the door. "I don't know if I can do this." His voice was bare thread of sound. He could hear that there were several more humans present than when they had first fled downstairs.

Mike's eyes softened as he looked into the face so like the one he saw in the mirror every day. "Uncle Will." He began, his voice barely audible as well. "I will _not_ let _anything_ happen to you." He raised his hands to clasp slender shoulders securely. "Think I want to miss the expression on Mama's face when she gets her first look at you? She spent my entire life thanking God that I wasn't twins."

A smirk crossed Spike's face. "That could be fun."

"Yup." Mike agreed amicably as a matching smirk graced his own handsome features. He stepped down to the same level as the vampire, turned, slid one hand off the shoulder it lay on and slung the other arm around his uncle's shoulders companionably. "Wanna go practice on Buffy?"

"Even more fun." The vampire purred as they ascended the last few steps so Mike could push the door all the way open.

_**TBC**_


End file.
